Very early, even
by ChestnutBrumby
Summary: Movieverse V for Vendetta. Yes, another V Lives fic. A few early flashbacks to V and Evey's early life together before everything blew up... what happened afterwards, and a hint at what the future might hold. Complete!
1. A Gift

V was a strange but attentive roommate. Each morning when Evey awoke it was to the smell of cooking breakfast. Bacon and eggs, pancakes, omelets, French toast. Even when their supplies were low and V would be absently planning his next 'shop', he always managed to have something ready for her. She wondered about this; how was it he managed to time things so well? With no pattern of day or night Evey sometimes awoke at odd hours, but no matter the time he was rarely more than a few minutes away from placing a plate of hot food and a cup of tea in front of her. She was grateful for this – it had been a long time since she'd eaten such meals, and eating breakfast with V seated thoughtfully across the table from her became a comforting and familiar routine.

He made it his habit to slip into her room each morning, especially when he'd been out for the night, telling himself it was merely to check on her, see if she was close to waking. He knew the subtle signs that moved across her gentle sleeping features, could tell the slight restlessness that touched her when she was slipping away from the world of dreams, and that signaled him to start breakfast. He never went more than two steps inside the door, and remained perfectly still and silent as he watched her. There was something even more lovely and peaceful about her when she slept, and he would find himself lingering, sweeping his gaze along the curve of her cheek or the line of her body curled tightly under the blanket, the way her tousled hair framed her lovely face. He was entranced by her, this graceful little creature he had brought into his home, the first person who looked at him as if he were not merely an idea, or repulsive, or an enemy. There were times, when those large hazel eyes of eyes burned with curiosity as she looked at him – perhaps even the hint of something more – when he was gladder of his mask than he ever had been.

She was beautiful, in a pure, simple way that he didn't think anyone could be anymore. And she was intelligent, eager to learn, which worked out well for he was eager to teach. More so he was eager to teach _her_, and she willing to learn, and so he lent her his books and movies, told her about his paintings and sculptures, and slowly they both adjusted to her place in the Shadow Gallery. Slowly, a dull loneliness that had smoldered away within V for so long he had forgotten its presence became to ebb, and, and he found each day he looked forward to her company more.

Evey was curled upon the couch with a book of V's in hand, a mug of tea gone long cold resting forgotten upon the wide armrest. She had picked a dusty volume of children's tales from the piles in her room, in need of a distraction on a night V had left on business. After three months she was used to his comings and goings and preferred not to think about where and what he was doing, but furthermore the gallery was a rather… well, _shadowy_ place when one was alone. The smallest noises echoed out of proportion, contrasting with the silences that could so swiftly, when concentrated upon, become overwhelming. Not that it was _scary_, precisely, just… unnerving. This was after all V's home, and with his absence it seemed a desolate place, the many items within seeming so much more inconsequential when their owner was away. She knew he did what he felt was needed, but still – she preferred to have him there at nights, picturing him sleeping down the hall, ready at a moment's notice to protect his treasures… and her.

It was cold in the Shadow Gallery, and before too many more chapters she looked up with a start and glanced at the quietly ticking clock in one corner of the room. She was startled to find it almost two in the morning and after noting the page number quickly closed the book and left it upon the table beside the couch. She padded down the hall to her room, debating weather or not to have a bath before bed, rubbing her bare arms with a shiver. It was tempting to crawl straight under the covers and close her eyes, but the end she decided a bath might warm her a little and slipped into the bathroom to turn on the tap.

She nearly fell asleep in the pleasantly scorching water, dozing comfortably until the time it became merely tepid and could no longer keep the chill of the air away from her naked body. She grabbed for the bathrobe V and brought her some weeks ago and wrapped it tightly before letting herself out of the bathroom and all but running over V who was walking by outside the doorway.

"V!" She gasped, jumping. He was so light in step she hadn't the faintest idea he had returned, let alone was passing right by the door. He turned towards her with an anxious tilt of his head, the dark eyes of his mask regarding her with seeming concern as he gripped her elbow to steady her. "Evey, are you alright?"

She gulped slightly at the sudden warmth of his hand, even though the thick toweling of the robe, and had to force herself to reply in normal tones. "Yes… yes V, I'm fine, I'm sorry – I didn't know you were back."

"It is I who should apologize; it was not my intention to startle you."

Evey, having regained her dignity by this point nodded and wrapped the robe more tightly around her figure. Not that there was anything indecent about the garment, it was a size too large and reached almost to her feet, but the night was still frigid underground.

"Are you cold, Evey?" That slight tilt again, the note of concern. She nodded again. "A little – the nights get a bit chilly, and I didn't mean to stay up so late – I was reading a good book. Enid Blyton."

"Ah, yes. I do admit although her tales were intended for a much younger audience, there is something enthralling about many of them. Evey, you must be tired – but before you retire, could you spare me a few moments?"

"Of course, V." She agreed to the request automatically, taking the arm he offered with a gallant little bow. He escorted her to the main room of the Shadow Gallery, saying nothing, and she went along with his comfortable silence as they walked.

The first thing she noticed was a dark crimson box sitting upon the table she had left her book. It was maybe twice the size of a shoebox and adorned with a ribbon.

"A gift, dear Evey." He released her arm with another bow and a sweeping gesture to the box. Evey opened her mouth, startled – he had often brought her things, clothes and other practicalities, even granting a request for a particular brand of food or type of fruit from time to time. But these were matter of fact, fetched form the world above because Evey could not do so herself, and he had never brought her something special, never had the occasion to gift-wrap anything for her. "Oh, V…"

"Please, open it."

She dropped to her knees beside the table and untied the ribbon, pulled away the paper wrapping, and lifted the lid. Behind his mask V smiled. There was an eagerness to her that was reminiscent of a child at Christmas, and her expression had already lifted his spirits and made the idea of buying her the gift worthwhile.

Nestled in a bed of rose pink paper was an exquisite velvet jacket. Evey drew in her breath in amazement as she lifted it from the box, stroking the soft black material and already feeling warm from just looking at it. She turned to V, who stood behind her with his hands clasped behind his back, and she could almost imagine that his own, real smile matched that of his ever-smiling mask. At that moment she felt a surprising, sudden wave of affection for this man, the sweetness of it that he had noticed her goosebumps and shivers in the evenings and sought to look after her. If she'd had time to think, or even if her mind had not been fuzzy from the long day, she would never have dared to do it, but before either of them knew it she had risen and clasped him in a grateful hug.

He stiffened immediately, fighting not to gasp at the feel of her lithe little body pressing against him – how long had it been since anyone held him, reached for him in affection? For years, the only contact he had experienced was the cold touch of a bullet or blade, the harsh swipe of a fist or foot. To imagine that Evey, his beautifully Evey, would ever display such fondness for him…

Before he could force himself to react normally she released him and drew back a pace, looking slightly flushed and embarrassed. She dropped her eyes and he seized the moment to regain his composure, thanking the mask wordlessly for hiding the expression he knew she would have otherwise seen.

"It's beautiful, V. I'll wear it all the time."

"I am glad you like it."

She nodded, ducking her head again before she turned and lifted the box. "Anyway – it's very late. Very early, even. I should go to bed."

"Yes. Do sleep well, Evey." He couldn't pull his gaze away from her, couldn't make himself turn and step through the door first, too afraid he was that if he moved he would heave her back into the embrace, caress that lovely silk hair, lift her in his arms and carry her to her bedroom himself…

Her slight frame stepping back in front of him, still clasping the box, snapped him hastily from such thoughts, mentally cursing himself. She smiled tentatively up at him, then, once again before she had the chance to think about it, darted in and placed a swift fleeting kiss on his cold white cheek. "You too V." She replied softly, ducking around him and out the door. She almost fell through the door into her room, nearly dropping V's gift, torn between the incredible soft warm feeling that had brought her lips up to his porcelain cheek in the first place and an absurd desire to start giggling. _Get a hold of yourself, Evey_, she ordered sternly. _You were thanking him. Nothing more. _

But as she laid the box upon her bedside table in readiness for the next morning and tucked herself under the covers, she realized that since she felt the delicious warmth of his body against her through her robe and his black cloak, the play of very fit muscle under his clothes, she had not once noticed the cold.


	2. Waking

**Before starting this chapter I'd like to share my views on a couple of things. Firstly is the extent of V's abilities – obviously we know from the movie he had incredible speed, grace and fighting prowess, but one thing I think that needs to be taken into consideration is this. V has to have some sort of power to heal, to some extent. Otherwise he never would have survived the LarkHill fire – third degree burns aren't anything trivial, let me assure you. With this in mind I take the steps into turning this towards a 'V Lives!' fic – so, shoot me. I _may_ do this story in a kind of 'flashback' manner if the mood so strikes me, and I come up with anything else I feel will better fit before the end of the movie. But as for this chapter, yes – we've made rather a leap in the timeline. Just a short snippet to keep everyone hooked ;) **

V opened his eyes to a sight both familiar and unfamiliar. The familiar part was the way his vision was limited to two small slits directly in front of him. The unfamiliar part was the cold silver metal roof and the support beam running through the line of his vision. Not to mention the gentle swaying and the loud clanking and the scent of something heavily fragranced in the air…

Roses?

With a gasp he leapt upright – or more accurately, he _tried_ to leap upright. Instead, when he jerked his upper torso pain like white-hot fire streaked through his chest, lungs and limbs, overriding the electrical impulse carrying the command to stand up when it was half-way there. His legs swung clumsily, his upper half crumpled, and he fell to the floor. Scarlet Carsons tumbled softly down about him. Blood soaked through his dark clothing, pooled across the floor, spread by the continual rocking motion. He tried to concentrate, but the many, many bullet wounds tearing into his flesh had robbed him of his rational, coherent thoughts. He futilely tried to stand again, grasping at nothing, able to see only one image in his mind's eye. Am unwavering hazel gaze, shorn brown hair, and a smile, that _smile… _

"Evey," He murmured almost unintelligibly, and as the name passed his lips somehow his broken figure stood for a few precious seconds before collapsing – this time hitting the wall beside the door, his elbow neatly colliding with the open button, slumping down unconscious in the open doorway. A lone boot hung outside the speeding train, and it was upon this the short metal spar attached to the rough-hewn wall caught upon. There was an awful moment where it seemed as if V's helpless battered body would be pulled in two separate ways, and then, almost as bad, the spar wrenched him away form the train and into the darkened tunnel, the force of it launching him up and into the unfeeling wall. He made no sound as his body finally came to rest on the metal and wood tracks, the smiling mask even more battered than before.


	3. Another Touch

**Authors notes: Apologies once again, it seems the only time I have to write is late at night. And tonight my roommates and two mates are playing drinking games at the table behind me, so I am perhaps a touch distracted. Also, they decided to pay attention to my activities during my proof read, and a Beta with four jelly-shots in her, while very entertaining, is not exactly helpful (cough_CASS_cough) ! **

**In any case, thankyou so much to everyone who reviewed! In response to those who judged my second chapter out of place, do remember it IS only the second chapter, and the format I've decided upon will become clearer with each new chapter I post. I should have the next up in a few days or so – pesky little things like work, relationships and thirteen guinea pigs keep demanding my attention :P**

**Anyway… onward! **

Evey had not known how to cook many meals before arriving at the Shadow Gallery. But V seemed to so much enjoy the hobby – as an art-form, really – she couldn't help but be curious, and as with each of his interests he was more than happy to share them with her.

She didn't catch on to his habit of finely-crafting a meal the way an artist puts the finishing touches on a masterpiece; she would never fully grasp the hundreds of different spices and subtle flavors and produce the kind of meals V did, but she soon became adept enough at cooking to produce a simple but enjoyable meal. More often that not her ingredients were determined by necessity. V seemed to gain easy access to almost anything either of them required it was easy to forget the short supply of so many things. It was on one night when Evey was absently chopping a few vegetables she looked down at the greenery and frowned thoughtfully. Vegetables were the one thing that never seemed lacking in the Shadow Gallery. Different meats, sweets and seasonings came and went as available, but fresh vegetables seemed much more regular. How on earth did V manage to keep up such a steady supply of them?

She was unable to shake the curiosity as she continued to prepare the meal, but before she was given any further opportunity to think about it the sound of a light footfall brought her attention to the doorway. He could move without a single sound when he wanted – how often had he approached and stood behind her when she was reading or watching a movie and not noticed? She knew by now when she did hear his step, he was usually about to say something.

V stood dressed in full Fawkes costume, the mask seeming to smile politely. "Evey, I must leave you for a while on business. I will not be gone long."

"Alright." A plan was already forming in her head and she didn't feel nearly as much disappointment at his words as she usually did. "Would you like me to leave you a plate in the oven?"

"That would be most lovely to return home to, dear Evey." With a gracious bow and a sweep of his long cloak he was gone, but Evey felt heartened by the warmth in his reply. But not quite enough to abandon the idea budding in her inquisitive mind…

She would do it, she decided all at once, and quickly, before he returned. She lowered the temperate on the stove a little so she wouldn't burn the potatoes, pumpkin and the small roast chicken, leaving the rest of the vegetables on the cutting board. She slipped out of the kitchen and into the hallway, listening to the hollow echo of her bare feet against the stonework. The sound bothered her, as did the sudden largeness of the gallery when V was absent, but she pushed on regardless, lifting her fee quickly from the cold floor, heading towards the end of the hallway and a row of doors she'd never had occasion to investigate before.

Before now, that is.

There was a hesitancy to her step as she timidly tried the handle of the nearest door, but her eyes shone and there was a certain enjoyment welling within her sprung from daring to explore the forbidden. Not that V gad ever strictly asked her to remain in the more habitable rooms of the gallery, exactly, but nor had he ever given a grand tour of the back rooms.

For a moment when the door swung open under her touch she thought of turning back, returning to her cooking and forgetting the whole idea… what if V returned for some reason? It was hard to imagine him forgetting anything when he went out… Evey bit back a giggle when she thought of V patting his pockets absently; searching for lost keys or wallet… it was too normal a scene to picture by far.

It was the scent that drew her on; as she couldn't make out a single thing in the room she peered into. It was a deep, earthy smell, and it confirmed her suspicions enough to fumble along the wall for a light switch. .

"I knew it!" She exclaimed softly, staring at the large, heavy tubs perfectly lined up in orderly rows. Each was filled with heavy potting soil and vegetables in various stages of growth. Stacked against the far wall were bags of fertilizer, a sack of unused soil, and a neatly arranged collection of trowels, watering cans and various other gardening implements. Each tub was lit by a very bright fluorescent tube suspended on a short chain from the roof, presumably UV lights to take the place of the absence of sunlight. Evey wasn't sure how long she stared at those miniature gardens, marveling – how long had it taken V to set up all this? – but also a little unnerved. Aside from a slight hum coming from the lights, it was completely silent. With all the living plants in here, Evey thought, there ought to be birds, insects, and small animals scurrying about. But it was so utterly quiet, she found herself watching her breathing and where she stepped, as if afraid of disturbing the peace. After a while the wafting smell of roast chicken reminded her of her cooking once again, and quickly she flicked off the lights and closed the door behind her. Her heart rate felt like it had doubled, but she still feel rather giddy – another time, she thought deviously, she might have explore again sometime.

The nights were cooling rapidly. After eating, and realizing with some degree of surprise it really was quite a decent meal, she curled herself on the couch with a new book, pausing only to grab the soft fleece blanket from the foot of her bed. V had recommended the book, a griping tale of survival about a boy who crashed in the wilderness with nothing more than a hatchet, and while it was engaging Evey found before she was half-way through her eyes were drooping and she there was a comfortable, calming warmth under the blanket. Her eyelids closed, the book slipped unnoticed from her hand.

It was here V found her when he returned – or at least, it was the top of her head visible from where she was cuddled deeply into the blanket. He removed the remainder of the roast she had saved for him from the oven and placed it on a tray to take to his room. He was pleased with the taste, at both his own teaching skill and Evey's aptitude. How much richer the days had become now he could share such things…

He was careful to remain quiet an unobtrusive in his motions as he went about washing his dishes, so not to wake her, before he settled on the couch beside her with a very small sigh and his own book. It was an hour or two before she opened her eyes and uncurled, lifting her head and blinking sleepily at the black-clothed figure with book in hand.

"V. What time is it?"

"Somewhat past midnight. I trust you slept well?"

"Yes. I did… have you seen my book?"

"Hatchet? Yes, I found it at the foot of the couch. You enjoyed it that much?" There was a teasing note of his voice and she smiled, pushing the blanket aside and sitting up. V noticed she was wearing the velvet jacket he gave her even under the blanket, and he suddenly felt warm at the thought she liked his gift that much. He gestured towards the coffee table upon which the book now lay.

"It was anything but boring, I assure you." She replied, but the sincerity of the words was spoiled somewhat by a large yawn. "I think I'm going to go back to sleep, V, if you don't mind."

"Undoubtedly I do not mind, Evey. May I suggest the bed this time, perchance?"

He was rewarded by the sound of her laugh, and she picked up her blanket and wrapped herself tightly in it as she stood.

Seeing her burrowing into the folds with only her small round face visible was perhaps the most adorable sight he could imagine, and his heart melted a little. What was this woman doing to him?

"Well, goodnight V. Good morning, anyway." As she passed she brushed against him – not by accident, but with a shy, fleeting stroke of her blanket-covered arm against his own, an affectionate touch. _Another_ affectionate touch.

V sighed deeply when he heard her door click softly shut down the hall. Walking to the couch, he sat down where she had been lying and felt the warmth from where her body had been, felt him himself slip into the shallow indent she'd left. He rested his head heavily in one hand.

It was official. He was going crazy.


	4. The Survivor

Andrew Hunter was in very high spirits. Which may have seemed unusual considering the timing, since his job at the BTN had crashed and burned along with the network itself, and the remnants of Sulter's regime the previous day. But Andrew had been among those masses who had marched up to Parliament dressed in a Guy Fawkes mask and cape, and he couldn't remember a time he felt this utterly… content. Oh, there was a nagging worry about money hovering at the back of his thoughts, but no worse than the worry about the country itself and what would happen now the people had seized control again. His wife Sara was optimistic too, and had been attending with her friends rallies and meetings about the idea of a new type of government being set in place, a democracy, that the London people would work alongside with and be a part of. It was all early stages yet, of course, but Andrew had the top-of-the-world feeling that he was witnessing a birth; a fresh start for he and his fellow Londoners.

He and several former coworkers from the BTN had teamed up with a bunch of men who used to handle construction work, and had volunteered in several sites around the city doing cleanup duty. There had been the inevitable riots, and there were still fingermen lurking in dark corners causing trouble where they could, but their system was dying and people had now opted for a measure they had long since forgotten – fighting _back_.

Today Andrew's crew was gearing up to head down into the old underground tube tunnels, a prospect that had many of them excited. By now, it was public knowledge how the man they knew as V had used these tunnels to send a train full of explosives to Parliament. Even the thought of doing something even as necessary and mundane as cleaning up after the destruction of the hero V had drawn a bigger crowd than usual, and Andrew found himself standing at the head of a crowd of about twenty-five men. For a moment he felt his heartbeat quicken as he felt a sudden flash of pride. He had been elected leader of this little work crew, and as he waited each man stopped chatting among themselves and their gazes turned to him. Just the previous week he had been breaking his back in a dead-end desk job, and the closest thing he got to actual physical work was the daily jog he took each evening before curfew. It was this regular exercise that had kept him fit, and he was every bit as muscular in appearance as the old members of the construction team. This, coupled with the management skills he had at least learned from the BTN, was the reason the men had started to follow him. It was a natural selection, one made with no need for posturing or fighting amidst themselves. No, these men standing before him were a decent lot, united in their common cause. Andrew drew in a deep breath and cast his eyes towards the waiting tunnels.

"All right, Charlie's team, can take the north tunnel since they're larger. The destruction is probably worst down there, but remember if you hit anything huge just secure and work around it. We've been in contact with a couple of companies – good ones – and we'll have some machinery available to us in four or five days." He paused to let the ripple of approval spread through the men. Machinery meant they could expand onto larger projects. Their were many among the crew who thought they could make a real go of this, helping out, working to make the city better. It was the sort of attitude that had been sorely lacking before now, and one that seemed more and more abundant as time went on and the riots and stalkings were dying down.

"My team will head down the east tunnels. We're concentrating mainly on getting these tunnels clear, but there is a possibility – Lord forbid – that there could be… bodies. I've got a doc on standby on the off-chance, but I want you to be prepared. If anyone finds anything, let me or Charlie know. If anyone has a problem with this sort of work, you're more than welcome to walk away. There will be other jobs" Again, a murmured ripple – but every one of them stayed, and Andrew felt his pride rise again that he could ask so much of these men. "That's all. Meet at 12, we've got some actual hot food for today's break." There was a ragged cheer at this welcome news and the crew grabbed hard hats, torches, and headed down to work.

Andrew had found the first few days the toughest before he got into the rhythm of the tough physical work. By the time mid-morning rolled around his back ached with having to bend over and his arms felt strained from the lifting – but it was a satisfied kind of pain, the kind of satisfaction one derives from throwing themselves into hard work and seeing it through. Today was no different. The tunnel was a mess, half-collapsed from the backwash of the mighty explosion, but much of the rubble was usable and Andrew saw the little buggy loaded up and driven out to the men waiting outside for the material time after time. As midday approached and the men started to shoulder their tools and head up to the surface, Andrew straightened up with a sigh, dusting his hands off on his overalls. He had started shifting aside a pile of concrete fragments and rock ruins with a shovel, but once the loose smaller pieces were out of the way he was forced to use his hands to clear away larger chunks, using the shovel as a lever where he could. He was turning to head up to join the rest of his team for lunch when he heard it. He halted, head on one side, frowning. It had been a purposeful sound, no simply the clunk of a falling stone tumbling down a slope. More a thunk-type of kick, a boot against something solid.

For a moment Andrew debated calling one of the crew, but felt a little foolish in picturing himself explaining he'd heard a mystery sound from the other side of the blockage. Still, his curiosity and a nagging sense of responsibility weighed on him and before he'd thought any further he grabbed his shovel and jammed it under the largest boulder in his path, putting all his strength into hauling on the handle. There was an ominous creak as warning, and he leapt back just in time as the boulder rolled aside and took a chuck of the rubble with it.

He scrambled up, cautious and not willing to fully trust his weight to the loose stones. He crouched low as he slid down the other side, reaching out and scraping his palm as he slowed his decent against a rough rock. The barely felt the pain, however, as his eyes fell upon the cloaked figure, kicking out with one leg and moaning dully, lying in a pool of crimson.

"Shit!" Andrew scrambled over to the man and inhaled deeply in shock. He knew, just by looking, he could see the difference from all those masked faces who had marched alongside him. He remembered in a flash of memory the first time he'd ever fought back, when his BTN co-workers had been out on the street – after curfew - trying to discover the truth of the matters that V had brought to light. A girl had been attacked. His group had heard the shouts from the next street. They had joined the mob advancing, with quiet menace, upon the lone fingerman. He remembered the way that murdering swine had helplessly raised his baton and screamed at them to get back. Futile. They had fallen upon him and beaten him as he had doubtless done so many times before, the tables turned.

It was all of it because of this man lying at his feet. Hesitantly, Andrew dropped to his knees beside him and carefully turned him over. The blood seeped from several holes dotted over the material covering his chest. The leg that wasn't fitfully kicking out was twisted at an awful angle. Andrew grabbed for his walkie-talkie.

"Get that doc down here right now! There's a survivor!"

**I know, I've been woefully slack, forgive me. I've had a rather nasty bout of a mystery illness doctors can't seem to define, my horde of about twenty animals or so (No-one to blame but myself there, I keep bringing 'em home…) and I'm most terribly X-men obsessed and allowing the new movie to invade much more of my time than is good for one's sanity. Oh, there's a boyfriend hanging around somewhere, too. pokes through the chaos Anyway. **

**Yes, this is that OC-outside happenings-necessary chapter that had to be gotten out of the way. The wiser of you have probably caught onto the deal with my timeline now. **

**Next up – more VEvey angst, naturally. Evey is still curious about V's life and the temperate just keeps on dropping in the Shadow Gallery. **


	5. Glimpses

She remembered the first time she ever heard him laugh.

"Have you seen it before?" He clicked the disk into the player and gave the holder a gentle nudge to retract it back into the machine. Evey, leaning on the back of the couch, shook her head thoughtfully. "No. I remember my mother read a little of it to me when I was young… that's why I was so pleased to find it here."

"A classic, to be sure. One of Orwell's best reads. The movie version perhaps is not quite so engaging, but pleasant enough viewing."

"In that case I'd better watch it, just to judge." She smiled at him, standing patiently beside the TV with his hands clasped behind his back. "Can you wait a moment? It's getting colder, and I want to grab my blanket." She bounced out of the room and down the hall to her room without waiting for an answer, knowing already he would wait for her. Her gaze was drawn to the end of the hallway and she lingered at her door, feeling a secret smile tug at her lips as the door to V's little garden caught her eye. He had served up a meal with a generous helping of carrots, beets, onion and cauliflower earlier, and the food had felt all the more delicious for knowing the enigma behind it. Still, she chided herself, she had to be careful. He had studied her for a long, thoughtful moment as she sat down to eat and she had the uncomfortable feeling he knew more than he had said about her… explorations. He was so perceptive she wouldn't put it out of the realm of possibility that he had found out in some way, but if so he chose, at least so far, not to mention anything.

Although she wore the soft velvet jacket he had given her as a gift constantly, she still felt the cold deeply. Much more than he seemed to, for when his full cape-and-costume was not in demand he had taken to wearing what Evey thought of as his 'everyday clothes'. Usually though he always retained long black pants his shirts varied, from soft dress shirts in dark shades to his poet's shirts and vests. One day, she could have sworn the shirt he chose varied form his normal grey or black and was a shade of very dark blue. Still, he never seemed to require anything more than one set of long sleeves. Perhaps he was simply so used to life down here he had ceased to notice the temperature. Perhaps instead, she mused, the outside world seemed humid and balmy after the cool of the underground.

Then again, if it was a fire he had been involved in, that had burnt his hands so badly and caused him to cover every inch of his skin, perhaps he merely preferred cold to heat.

She felt her heart skip a beat or two as she thought back to that early day in the gallery when he'd left his gloves off and she'd glimpsed his hands, the only part of _himself _she'd ever really seen. It made her hurt inside, an inexplicable pain she couldn't derive the roots of, when he turned so quickly and pulled his gloves back on. As if he had no right to expose her to that.

"Evey?" His voice was gently questioning as he called to her down the hallway. Jumping, she grabbed the roughly folded blanket from the end of her bed and stepped back into the hall, shaking away her daydreams. Were they still classed as _day_dreams when half the time she didn't know weather it was day or night?

"Sorry, V. I am coming." She hurried back into the main chamber of the Shadow Gallery, the blanket unfolding and trailing an end on the stone floor as she dropped onto the couch where he was seated, waiting as patiently as ever. Carefully Evey divided the blanket in two down the middle and folded it over before drawing it over herself and burrowing contentedly into the couch, watched by V's dark amused gaze. He had noticed the endearing habit the third time she had watched a film with him and it had been chilly enough for her to bring her blanket to the couch. Weather she really was cold enough to warrant two layers of the thick material or it was simply a habit repeated through tradition he was unsure, but it never failed to make him smile behind the mask. She slept with it the same way too; he had noticed when he slipped into her room in the early mornings to check if she was near to waking.

"All set, Evey?" He didn't try to hide the amusement in his voice. The top of her head, a few curls and a pair of large hazel eyes were peering out from the little nest she'd made, the doubled-over blanket having been pulled up to her nose. The sight made his heart melt a little, and he swallowed as she nodded in reply. As the starting credits of Animal Farm flicked up over the screen he felt her foot gently nudge the side of his leg through the blanket as she curled into a more comfortable position. At the mild contact he felt his heart skip what must have been several beats. He glanced sideways at her through the mask – was it purposeful? But no, her eyes were trained on the screen and the faces that had started to play over it, already absorbed, unnoticing.

He too turned his attention back to the story and sank into the plight of the characters – he hadn't watched this movie in a long time. It was Evey who spoke first, and he was so absorbed it came as a surprise. "Wow." She remarked incredulously, eyeing the enormously fat, jowly pig who took up most of the camera. "That is one _ugly_ pig."

She said it with such timing and wonderful seriousness that he laughed, and she turned towards him in surprise. It was a deep, rich laugh, uninhibited and heartening, and completely unexpected. She felt at that moment, hearing his laughter, as she had when she'd fleetingly seen his hands – as if she was really, actually, _seeing_ him.

They had watched many movies after that, it becoming something of a habit on the evenings V stayed at the Gallery. She nearly always brought her blanket, folding it meticulously in two and curling on the couch at his side. As time went on they became more at ease with their positions and she would sit closer to him, so that their arms were shyly touching. When she discovered such titles as Jurassic Park in his extensive collection she sat even nearer, and in the more gruesome parts she buried her face in his shoulder and told him in a muffled voice to tell her when she could look again. When it was his night to choose the movie he found himself reaching for scarier films for that very reason.

He was falling head over heels for this woman.

Regardless, V still departed the gallery regularly to ensure his job was completed. One particular day he had been gone for hours and Evey felt the usual frustration mounting. She was bored and restless and desperately in need of his company, his charming manner and smooth speech rolling over her – or at best, she needed a distraction from how dammed much she missed him. Cleaning seemed like a mundane enough task to keep her occupied and there were certainly enough items in need of dusting, polishing and washing to be found in the Shadow Gallery. Armed with a broom, mop and bucket she found tucked neatly in a closet in the corner of the room she set to work on the floors. When that was done there was still no sign of V and out came the duster and a can of polish.

Evey was shocked when she looked at the old grandfather clock and the hands told her it was midnight. She was getting consistently worse at keeping track of time down here. Sighing, she stowed the cleaning supplies where she'd found them and headed for a shower to remove the dust and cobwebs.

When she emerged, half-way through combing her hair, she hastily pulled on her jacket at the chill in the air after the warm bathroom. Heading for the main chamber, she heard V's quiet step in the kitchen and quickened her pace. He turned to face the doorway as she appeared in it. "Evey. I didn't think you'd still be up."

"Hello, V – I'm heading to bed soon actually. I, ah… got caught up." Better to let him think she had, as usual, gotten engrossed in a book. It seemed ridiculous to admit she'd lost track of time while _cleaning_.

"I won't keep you up. Thank you for leaving me some of your cooking." H gestured to the oven on a low setting, warming the meal she'd prepared much earlier in the evening. She was so used to the routine now when she cooked she barely noticed she was doing it.

"That's alright." She nodded at him and left him in peace to eat as she proceeded to the main room. At first he had taken his meals into his room to eat safely behind locked doors, but they had reached a stage where they were in understanding: if she left him in the kitchen when he was ready to eat she would not return until he had finished and sought her out, and so of late he had remained at the kitchen table to eat his meals, in the same place he sat while Evey ate hers.

Evey sat on the couch and worked the comb through her curls. It was a rather fancy old-fashioned comb V had commandeered god knows where and not awfully practical, but as the only one she had access to she had to make do.

She looked up at V entered the room, chose a book from one of the many shelves and settled on the couch beside her to read it. A few pages in he glanced over at Evey, still struggling with the comb, and set the book down still open on the armrest. "Would you like help with that?" He offered, speaking a touch too quickly to his own ears – making the offer before he had a chance to argue with himself the several dozen reasons why it would not be a good idea. Evey flashed a surprised smile at him before dipping her head in thanks, and before he knew it V found himself holding the comb and Evey slipping lightly to the ground at his feet, crossing her legs and pulling her jacket around her with a slight shiver. She leaned back and nearly jumped at the feeling of V's long legs against her back… there was so much warmth coming off him it was like holding her hands over a steaming kettle.

Gently, as if afraid his gloved hand might disturb her lovely hair, he ran his fingers lightly over her scalp. Half-brushed or not, her hair still looked beautiful to him. Carefully he placed the teeth of the comb into first layer of hair and smoothly drew it down, marveling at the soft damp curls that sprang back into place as he worked.

Evey closed her eyes, relaxing completely as V cast his concentrations to her hair. He kept one hand lightly on the top of her head as he used the comb, so not to pull too much, and the feel of his sleek gloved hand was intensely soothing. He moved each section slightly to one side as he finished, and when his gloved fingertips brushed the back of her neck she felt the shiver all the way down her spine.

V was meticulous in his attentions and grew more comfortable with the task as Evey continued to lean against him in perfect contentment. Slowly time seemed to melt away, until all that remained was the sound of their breathing, and the pull of comb running through Evey's hair, the ticking of the clock very distant indeed. When every strand was soft and tangle-free V finally set the comb on the table. Evey seemed almost asleep as she leaned against him and very much inclined to stay where she was. Idly, V let his hands trace a gentle pattern over her head, letting his fingers run smoothly down those beautiful silky tresses…

Remembering himself before he completely lost the plot and let his hands venture any lower, V pulled back, starting Evey upright. She turned to look up at him, her side still warm against his legs, and for a moment he could have sworn her eyes reflected the same confusion and longing that his own did. Oh, to let his fingers grace that elegant neck, slide lower over her shoulders and along the dip of her breasts…

He stood swiftly, throwing a string of silent curses at himself, and she rose beside him. Before he could make an excuse and flee to his own bedroom, she reached for his hand and gripped his fingers uncertainly. He looked down at her small, pale hand inside his large gloved one and slowly, closed his fingers over her own. Neither could have said how long they stood there together, saying nothing with words, but everything in body language. It was V who broke the spell, raising her hand to the lips of his mask and pressing them together lightly. She smiled at his gallant show, and gave his hand a last squeeze before letting go.

"Madame, I do bid you good night." He forced the worlds to come out as they normally would have. Traitorous thumping heart, despite all rationality told him he was _sure_ she must be able to hear it hammering away. Evey gazed up at him in the moment before he turned for his bedroom, feeling completely not up to standing there a single second longer. "Thank you," She said softly to his back, saying so little and so much with two words.

**As promised, more VEvey fun. I was going to have her continue her little forays into the Shadow Gallery, but I got caught up in the idea of Evey hearing V's laugh. I recently got my hands on the Animal Farm DVD myself and upon seeing Old Major uttered the same line as Evey, and my other half laughed – life imitates art, did they say? Anyway, hope everyone enjoyed, please leave me a review with your thoughts – the more reviews the faster I'm encouraged to get my butt into gear and pop out the next chapter ;) **


	6. Treatment

**Ok, first of all a HUGE apology to everyone follow my little story for keeping you waiting! The short version is that I haven't had any internet access and have only got it back about an hour ago. (The longer version imvolves moving houses, changing housemates, work dramas... so I'm going to stick to the short version and get on with the good stuff!)**

**In this chapter we properly meet the good doctor, and progress slowly towards V living... well, waking, anyway. Yeah. cough Onward! **

Andrew stood watching with a frown as the doctor and the burly redhead Charlie moved the patient onto a stretcher. How much to tell them? Neither had 'recognized' the badly injured man yet, but how long could it take at least the doc when he started treating V? Andrew hesitated before striding after them.

"Charlie."

The muscular man turned towards Andrew. He was a serious, straightfoward type, who spoke rarely and always gave consideration to anything he did.

"I'm going to go with the doc. I need you to watch the crew - I may not get back today, make sure they all knock off by six, yeah?"

Charlie nodded his large head in acknowledgement. He sometimes came off borderline rude with his quiet nature and tendancy to use little to no words, but Andrew knew the giant of a man was hardworking, sensible and completely trustworthy. His crew would be in capable hands.

The doctor, an elder, greying man, glanced Andrew's way as he helped him load the stretcher into the back of his car, which had the back seats removed and a flat bench obviously made for the purpose of transporting patients. "You're coming along, I take it?"

"Yes. Please." Andrew settled the stretcher down carefully and glanced at the battered mask. Lifeless black eyes concealed the face of the city's savuior. Indents from bullets had destoryed the ever-prevalient smile.

"We must be quick. He's loosing blood." The doctor watched the crew's leader through pale blue eyes. He had seen a lot in almost forty years of his prefession. He was no fool.

"Of course." Andrew climbed into the passenger door of the car, clumsily pulling at the seat-belt. He and Sara had never owned a car, having been granted a flat to live a few minute's walk from the BTN. The unfamilair noise of the engine growled, and they set off.

Dr. William Iverman operated a small licensed practice, with his small house placed behind the reception area, consultation room and surgery. He had been called upon by his government to treat some of the higher-ranked politicians who wished to aviod the spotlight of hospitals, and had stitched up many an injuried fingermen arriving in the late of the night. One might conclude from this he was loyal to Sulter.

It was not so.

Dr. Iverman's surgery room alone was twice the size of his house, which consisted of one tiny bedroom, bathroom, and a cramped kitchen and living area which served a main purpose of housing medical encylopedias. His work was his life. Aside from officals and enforces he treated the public at the other end of the scales, and if he could would never have opted for the former choice. He lived alone - his interests had never strayed from his own sex and knowing exactly what would happen were anyone to discover this had hidden himself in plain sight. He had two close friends, the young but bright nurse Sammy who assisted in his practice, and an old colleuge he had studied medicine with so many years ago. That was it. Sammy fussed over him, staying an extra half-hour after work to tidy his small house and cook him a hot meal she insisted he ate, and fretted over his workaholic lifestyle, but in honestly he was content enough with his life. It's was far from perfect, but it was rewarding when a mother thanked him for operating sucessfully on her son. It could have been much worse. He could have been caught and executed. He trembled each night when he heard the buzzer in his practice go off. Was this caller just another fingerman in need of stitches? Or one come to drag him from his home with a black bag over his head?

Regardless he treated each of his patients with the same profesional manner. Healing people was not based on weather you like them or not.

Reception was empty, for it was the one afternoon Samy left early. "You'll have to assist me. Scrub your hands and put on a pair of gloves from that shelf." Instructed the doctor, and Andrew swiftly did so the moment V's stretcher lay safetly on the operating table. His heart hadn't stopped hammering away throughout the entire ride and was no better now. The doc was setting about his work calmly enough. Did he suspect yet?

Dr. Iverman turned with a small pair of sissors in hand and quickly snipped away the bloodsoaked shirt. Andrew felt his face drain of colour and he took an unwitting step back when the sight of the scarred flesh met his horrified eyes. Whatever he had been expecting, this was not it. The doctor carried on without a second's hesiation, as if he didn't notice. In total there were three bullet wounds in his chest - two in the left lung and one just below the right shoulder. The left arm had two more bullet holes - a shot having gone in and straight out the other side - and where one had glanced off V's flesh, leaving an angry red slice. Andrew followed the doctor's calm instructions without thinking anything at all. Iverman himself never once falted in his work as he removed bullets, patched up the holes, repaired the damge done as best he could. When he cut away the pants two more bullets, one in the left knee and the other the right thigh, awaited. More surgery. Andrew handed over equpment and moved as if in a trance, and it was only the last instruction that brought him back to reality. Dr. Ivermon was stitching the last bullet wound and did not look up from the task. "Would you remove the mask, please." Andrew automatically reached out to do so, but before his hand touched the battered mask he hesitated. All of a sudden, despite the fact this terribly scarred man lay before them with his clothes in shreds, taking off the mask seemed an incredible invasion of privacy. His hand hovered there in mid-air and he could not bring himself to make the descsion.

Iverman did so for him. His tone was the same rational voice of reason it had been each time he'd spoken that night. "If there are more injuries requiring my attention I must treat them. I will not let any patient of mine die or suffer over a mere matter of pride, Andrew. Remove the mask."

Slowly, Andrew grasped the edge of the mask and pulled it away, still in slow-motion, as if expecting the man to leap from the table and attack, injuries and all.

There was no resistance. Nor were their any wounds... at least, no recent ones. The man's eyes were closed. Andrew drew in a deep breath at the sight of the face of London's hero. Iverman's light blue eyes flicked carefully over the man's features, checking for any sign of injury until he was satisfied there was nothing else. He nodded once to himself and placed the scalpel in his hand on the nearby trolley. He nodded to a cabinet to one side. "There are gowns on the top shelf. We've done all we can. It is up to him now."

Andrew opened the cabinet's door. "Will he live?"

"It appears he has survived worse. I think there is a good chance of it happening again." Iverman replied quietly, and he finished tending to his patient.


	7. The moment

It was silent when Evey awoke. That was the first black mark against the day.

When V was home he nearly always ensured she knew he was there; that was to say - he always made some sound. The jukebox would be softly playing a song, the clash of his sword against the rather battered suit of armour would ring merrily out, the bubbling of their next meal cooking could be heard from the kitchen.

Today there was none of that.

It had been close to three months now and as much as Evey knew she was growing fonder of V by the day, she was also growing more restless - and more ambiviliant. She understood a little of V's reasons now. She had meant it when she had extended her offer to help him, although it seemd such a pitiful notion to her - how could she ever hope to aid a man as wholely self-sufficent as V? Still, she had been relieved when he reacted her offer with nothing but polite acceptance, and they had left it at that.

But there were times when she thought of him taking her ID to kill Prothero, or times when she rounded a corner to see him practicing with his knives and being reminded just how deadly he was as he swirled over the stone floor, whipping his weapons about as if they were natural extensions of himself.

It didn't help her mixed feelings that she also noticed how utterly graceful he was, his movements more of a dance than anything, his supple muscles tensing beneath dark leather...

The second strike reflected her moods of late rather aptly. There was nothing in V's kitchen she felt even _remotely_ interested in eating for brekfast. His supplies were low and for some reason it bothered her that he hadn't been more preped and gotten something else for her. After all, _she_ was the one stuck down here at the mercy of _his_ tastes - it wasn't like she could stroll down a supermarket asile anymore! She realized the thought was a little unfair, but stubornly remained annoyed as she rather agressively swung the doors to a ktichen cupboard closed. She stalked out of the room still hungry and began to search for something to keep her occupied. Where _was_ he, anyway? Had he been out the entire night?

Again, Evey was unable to find anything that took her fancy. She wanted to do something active, not read a book or watch one of V's movies. She started to grow more hostile towards the Gallery itself, which was filled, almost cluttered, with so many of V's treasures it seemed to leave no room for her. Not that she would have wanted enough room to run laps or play a few games of basketball, but... still. _Does one person really need all this... crap! _Evey thought moodily to herself, although in her heart she neither regarded V's possessions as 'crap' nor have to concentrate overly to come up with reasons for him to have them. Frustrated, she grabbed a feather duster and began taking out her agressions on paintings, scuptures, and various knicknacks scattered around the Gallery.

The final straw came as Evey swiped the duster at a small ceramic vase with an ornatre floral design. As V would make sound to let her know he was there, he sometimes chose the opposite and opted to make no sound as he approached her. This was one of the latter times. V stepped rather wearily down a small set of stairs into the gallery and towards Evey, whose back was to him, dusting. He waited until he was almost within arms' reach before speaking. 'Hello Evey." It was spoken with all his usual quiet calm, but coming unexpectedly from right behind Evey's shoulder she jumped violently and let out a small scream. The vase was knocked backwards into the wall from its bronze stand by her motion, shattering instantly.

V moved in a whirlwind blur as the shards freefalled to the ground. In his gloved hands he caught the larger peices which had fallen towards Evey's feet, clothed in a warm pair of socks as protection against the chilly floor but which would not offer the same services against jagged ceramic.

Evey took a few steps back, speechless, as V straightened up, holding the smashed peices. He tilted the mask towards her and it regarded her with seeming concern, which reflected from his tone. "Are you alright, Evey?"

Caught between her mounting frustrations with him and his home, sorrow at having broken one of his treasures, shock at the faint echoing sound of the vase smashing, yet more anger at him for sneaking up on her like that, she settled on the emotion most previlant.

"Am I ALRIGHT!" She hissed, taking a step back towards him and actually jabbing him hard in the chest. "No, I'm NOT alright! I've been here for months, V! Months, of no sky, of no weather, no god-damned change at all! Months of leaving all control of my life to you, and having you sneaking around, coming and going at all hours of the day and night to rub my nose in it!"

V stood quietly accepting her verbal barrage, the only move he made being towards the end of her speech, to place the shards on the stand. He allowed her a moment to gauge his reaction and calm herself before speaking. "Evey, I am sorry that I-"

He got no further that, for as he raised his hand to gesture she suddenly saw what he had done.

Immediately, Evey felt her anger evaporate. V's hand was dripping blood and his leather glove was visibly sliced in two places. In catching the ceramic, an effort to protect her, his hand had been cut, and she reached out and grabbed it gently. "Oh, V... your hand." She could feel the warmth of his skin beneath the glove, and a faint, but steady pulse against the very tips of her fingers. V found himself unable to move for a long moment - could she see through the cuts in the leather? Was she going to pull away, horrified? He'd never properly gagued her reaction to seeing his hands ungloved the first time, he had turned away so quickly to hide them...

"V, does it hurt? How bad is it? Oh, I'm so sorry, I broke your beautiful vase and caused you to cut yourself..." She groaned, but V silenced her by raising his good hand, making no effort to remove the other form her gentle grip. "Evey, my dear, you have no need to apologize, for that should be my task just now. You are quite right, I am keeping you here against your will and it does pain me that there is no other way but this one. I realize you must be missing your old life and I would not blame you for any regrets you may harbour over ever defending me in the first place. I can only ask that you let me know if there is something you need and I will do everything in my power to see that you get it. As for the vase, it was an accident and they will happen, so please do not fret over it."

She was studying his face very intently, and there was something buried in those deep hazel eyes of hers that made him feel suddenly tongue-tied. She too, did not release his hand and the silence lingered before she broke it. "There is something you can do that will help me endless amounts, V."

"Name it."

She hesitated, turning his right hand over in her own. "Let me see to this wound. It's my fault, after all."

She felt him stiffen at the idea and prayed he would not turn from her with a swirl of his cloak. But he stayed, and after a moment he spoke, carefully removing his injured hand form Evey's. "My dear, that is not nessicary. I can tend to it perfectly well myself - I have done so with much worse wounds than this one."

"I know you have... but that isn't the point. It would make me feel better, V... I can hardly fix that beautiful vase of yours, but I can your hand."

"Evey, I don't wish to-"

Once again she wouldn't let him finish, rushing in her effort to get the words out. She had to get her meaning across, knew exactly what she was asking him to do and how important his answer would be. "Please, if this is about your burns... I'm not asking you to reveal anything I havn't already seen. It doesn't bother me, V, honestly."

He remained silent, agonizing. It was only a small step, and she was right... but oh, he couldn't ever remember nerves as bad as this before.

"You did just say you'd do anything in your power. This doesn't even require much power on your behalf. You just need to let me help. Besides, I know you're left-handed and that won't help if you have to do it yourself."

_Why on earth would she notice something like that?_ Flew through V's mind, but the thought was left hanging in light of the more pressing matter: she had won. He sighed, nodded, and followed her into the bathroom.

He perched uneasily on the edge of the vanity as she opened the cabinet and pulled out his first aid kit. He noted she did not have to search for it. Clearly, she had known where it was, and it bothered him for a moment that she found so little to do through her days that she searched through bathrooms cupboards out of boredom.

Evey undid the clips on the box and set it beside the sink, holding out her hand for V's own. He reached for her slowly, allowing his gloved fingers just a tiny second of contact to her own. Sighing, she carefully gripped his wrist and turned his hand so the plam faced upwards. "V?"

He became aware he was staring at her light grip on him unwaveringly. He snapped his focus up to her face. "Yes?"

"You'll have to actually take the glove off for this." She told him patiently.

"Oh, yes. Of course." He swallowed, pulling his hand back as Evey released him, and hesitated only once before knowing if he delayed a moment longer he would never do it.

He peeled away the glove, trying to make it appear his mask was not staring straight at her to disguse the fact he was desperate to gauge her response.

Evey reached out and more firmly took hold of his injured hand. Across his palm was the deeper of the gashes, with a second running across the middle part of his fingers. She felt a stab of sorrow she had been the cause of him being hurt. The angry crimson scars threaded with an almost traslucent white were of second consequence to her. She efficenlty took a washcloth and began to very gently dab away the blood form the wounds.

V only allowed himself to relax when she started this act. He couldn't believe it. She hadn't even batted an eyelid, and he had been watching her like a hawk. She had spoken truthfully. She hadn't given his scars a second glance.

Hope rose in him, a warm reassurance, somehow welcome and desperately unwanted both at once. If she could take his hands so calmly, was there a chance she could deal with more? He barely dared think it, but the idea formed in his mind and he was powerless to stop it; a scene playing out like a flim missing a pause button. Evey was standing before him as he stripped away his cloak, his vest... his shirt. Evey running her hands along his bare chest, venturing lower and lower, and the dream was re-enforced by her current nearness, her head bent in concentration so he could catch the full scent of her shampoo, her hand gently grasping his own bare one.

It was the first time he could recall any skin to skin contact with anyone. It was like all the innocent touches through clothing multiplied a thousand times over. It was like holding onto a live wire. He felt so charged he was sure any second he would leap to his feet and bounce off the walls.

"V?"

He was jerked from his own mind by her questioning voice. She had raised her head to look up at him, and her beautiful face was mere inches from his mask.

Oh, how badly he wanted to kiss her. Her wanted to return her touch a thousandfold, he wanted to run his fingers down the graceful arch of her neck and undo the buttons of her shirt, he wanted her feel her shiver under his touch,

"V, are you alright? I'm not hurting you, am I?"

_Hurting him_? She was almost killing him!

"No, Evey." He managed, even injecting something he hoped sounded casual into his tone. "There's a disinfectant bottle in that drawer, I think you best use it."

"Yes, that lower cut looks quite deep." She agreed, carefully running her index finger over the jagged line torn over his palm, which she had stopped bleednig by now. The touch reduced him right back to square one and he couldn't think of a thing to say as she continued to tend to him, seeming quite comfortable with the silence.

In truth, so many thoughts were screaming through her head she was too scared to open her mouth lest any of them overcome whatever she meant to say. She couldn't believe that V was actually sitting here, letting her help him, baring his skin, part of his soul, to her. It must mean something he was showing such trust in her, for this was, as he'd said, something he easily could have dealt with himself.

Forcing herself to concentrate, she dabbed the deep yellow liquid onto his cuts with a peice of cotton wool. After ensuring she hadn't missed anything, she picked a short bandage, placed a gauze pad over his palm, and bound the material around his hand. She took her time, almost reluctant to end this strange scene.

V released a breath he hadn't been aware of holding as Evey folded the edge of the bandage under the previous coils to secure it. Without thinking, she rubbed her thumb gently over his, almost as shocked at the act itself as the fact V did not pull away. "There." She breathed, staring once again sraight up into his mask, feeling an unmistakable current crackling between them. Evidently he was affected to, for he was sitting unmoving with his bandaged hand resting palm upright in hers. More than anything in the world, she wanted him to take off his mask, to see the expression in his eyes, to have the chance to pull him closer so that their lips could meet.

It was that instant when she realized.

This wans't a simple attraction to a man of mystery and grace.

She was falling in love with him. With _him_!

Unable to think to a single thing to say or do she abandonded herself to her first reaction. "I'm sorry, V." She choked out, dropped his hand, and fled from the bathroom.

**Author's notes:**

**Ok, I thought long and hard about which reason to use for how Evey reacts to the Lilliman scene. In the end I settled on a cross between two things: Evey's mounting restlessness and her ever growing affection for V. I'm trying to aviod overlapping parts of the movie more than I need to, so I don't think I'll actually write that part myself, but I've decided this will be the final 'flashback' scene. I am gonig to continue Evey's point of view, just from a later point in time. I have an idea in which direction I'm taking this story, so prepare for some changes! **

**As always forgive spelling, and being an Australian cross New Zealander who learnt all she knows about British ways from _Notting Hill._**

**Responses: **

**YoungChica,** **thanks so much, glad you're enjoying it! Hope this was soon enough for you :)**

**Timejump, thankyou and enjoy! **

**Sarmoti, I appreiate your saying so about the timeline, nice to hear you like the format! **

**Shadowcat, thanks for following for so long. Hope this one was a little longer for you ;) **

**Blackwing (Sami), is loved aww, thanks darlin'. Avidly read away!**

**Big thanks and hugs go out to all my reviewers so far! The more commeants you guys leave the more motivated I am to continue! **


	8. Flashes of Memory

Dr. Iverman, after a long shift tending to his patient, had retired for what was left of the night - only on the insistance of Andrew who had promised to awaken him at dawn.

As Andrew sat pensively in a chair positioned at their patient's bed, lost in his thoughts.

He had told only one person of just whom was lying in this bed, the one person he could trust with anything - his wife. Sarah had initally reacted with shock, but was now completely understanding of the time Andrew spent at the doctor's private clinic. Andrew felt responsible, to a degree, for this man London hailed as their champion.

As far as V himself was progressing, the doctor was amazed at his condition. He seemd to have an accelerated healing factor and even the deep tissue wounds from some of the worse bullets were improving. However, he had yet to wake up, and thought neither admited so, it worried both Andrew and the doctor.

After seeing what was under the mask and understanding why he opted to wear it, Andrew had mixed feelings about V waking up anyway. He and the doctor had had little choice... but this was, obviously, a man who valued his privacy.

His attention snapped back to V at the sound of the bedsheets shifting ever so slightly. V still lay motionless and seemed to be in exactly the same position, but Andrew felt the hair on the back of his neck raising. He had replaced the dirtied mask out of politeness to the man, but he was well aware that when he awoke he would know it had been taken from him. Andrew remained watching V for several long minutes. Nothing. Still uneasy, Andrew got up and headed for the doorway. There was the sound of material creasing, and sure now the patient was awake Andrew spun around...

To find V standing right in front of him, his breathing heavy and laboured behind the mask. In his hand was a loaded syringe, the tip of which was pressing against Andrew's throat very lightly. His eyes wide, Andrew desperately struggled to come up with something, anything, to say. V beat him to it, and although there was forcefullness in his tone there was also definate grogginess.

"If there is a reason you were sitting beside my bed as I find myself bandaged and lying in a medical facility I suggest you state it quickly." The last words were almost slurred in V's effort to speak, but Andrew was left with no doubt the needle against his skin would require very little effort to peirce it, even for a man in V's condition.

"I was the one who brought you here." Andrew managed at length, trying to speak slowly and clearly. "I found you, in the rubble of the tube tunnels"

"What were you doing down there?" The tone had taken an edge of unmistakable danger and Andrew felt fear twist low in his insides. "I'm part of a clean-up crew. We've been repairing what damage we can around the city."

There was a pause - weather V was digesting this information or struggling for strength it was impossible for Andrew to tell. "If there is damage in the tunnels... I imagine Evey must have pulled the lever..." He muttered, the mask bobbing unsteadily, which made very little sense to Andrew. A second later V's focus snapped back to Andrew. "What happened to Paliment?"

Of course, he wouldn't know! Senseing his suspicion was cooling, Andrew allowed himself to relax a notch. "It was incredible." He said softly, and V lowered the needle and reached out to brace himself against the doorframe as he continued. "The explosion drowned out the sound of the music, and I don't think a single person in London could have missed the fireworks. There were thousands of people in your costume, watching."

"How do you know?" V asked unsteadily. Andrew smiled a little. "I was there, me and my wife. It was unbeleivable. These armed men just folded when the group started marching towards them. They didn't even try to stop us, it would have been pointless."

V was silent for a long moment.

Then he had done it. His dream had been realized. The plan he had put twenty years of his life into was a sucess.

It paled into near insignificance beside the one person who had known him not as the idea of a man, but the man himself. He had never thought about what he would do when... or if... he was actually sucessful. Not before she came in to his life.

Evey. Was she safe? What had she done after... oh, god. She had put him on the train. He had memories of jolting and the fragrence of roses, of hurtling through the air and of blinding pain...

Evey thought he was dead.

Evey, who had been ready to drop her whole life for him.

Evey, who he loved more than he could have believed.

With nothing further in his mind than these thoughts, he knew he had to get to her. Nothing would stop him.

"What is your name?"

Andrew seemed startled by the question, but the answer came automatically. "Andrew Hunter."

"Mr Hunter, I thank you for your assistance." With no further warning and what felt to be the last of his strnegth, V drove his palm into Andrew's face. The man passed out before he had a chance to feel any pain. "You seem a good type. You wouldn't have let me go volentarily." Sighed V, and as quickly as his injuries allowed made for a window. Clearly, Andrew was no doctor, and V had no wish to wait around for whoever had treated him to show up. There was no need to knock out any more people than was nessicary tonight.

Evey was waiting.

**I know, another short chapter. They're going to get logner (and I hope, a ltitle deeper) after this! **

**Big HUGE bear hugs to everyone who reviewed, and I'm sorry my mad scedule and my lazy butt kept you all waiting so long! **


	9. Hope Rising

**waves sheepishly You've probably all given up on me by now, and I can't blame you. A deep aplogy to those who've been following my story... Chica, I think you do need to shout at me. **

**I can only say the various chaotic peices of my life which have kept me from reachnig this site and updating my story as much as I would have liked have been sorted out, to an extent, and I will be updating more frequently from here on. Two chapters will follow in apolgy for the lateness! **

Evey had very little memory of the days after the fifth of November.

There were tears. She could remember lying, curled into a ball, aware of only the tears rolling down her cheeks and the unbearable emptiness inside her.

There was pain. Not the sort of pain he had put her through, in his efforts to teach her some of his strength. No, this pain was a thousand times worse, raw and bleeding inside her heart. The thought that she would never again see V, V who had given her freedom and captivated her spirit, was more than she could bear.

Ir could have eben days before the haze started to lift. Struggling into the kitchen, she found a loaf of slightly stale bread and wolfed what was left. She hadn't eaten for so long enough her shrunken stomach rejected the meal, and was forced to take it a little more slowly until she re-built her strnegth.

Her physical strength, in any case.

It was strange to be in the Shadow Gallery with so much freedom. She visited the roof often and sat silently in the open, oblivious to the weather and the feel of fresh air on her skin.

Beneath her, London was being rebuilt.

A new type of government was slowly emerging. A dedicated team of people - amung them, Cheif Inspector Finch and the faithful Dominic - were working hard to ensure that government would never become like the last. Finch had actually been offered a high position, which he had politely refused. Filled with renwed energy and spirit, he was ridding the police force of any of Sulter's supporters and replacing them with good honest coppers, intent on having a police force the likes of which he he used to work with.

It wasn't all so simple, however. While there were those who worked to re-build, there were also those too afraid of the future to imagine it any other way than Sulter's. But as time passed, his support groups gew smaller, the riots more inferquently. Peace might not happen overnight, but it would happen.

Through it all, Evey remained in the Shadow Gallery. She was vauegly aware of these changes above the surface, but it was like watching a wide river in the distance. The current was moving, but she was entirely seperate from it. When V had given her his train, had placed the control in her hands, she had not truly understood what it was he had felt. He could not go through with his plan becuase such a change would create a world with no place for him. In sending V and his train to their mighty end, Evey had chosen the same path.

There was nothing for her above anymore. She was aware that she probably could have returned to her old apartment, but every time the thought entered her mind it drifted away. There was a strange type of peace here in the Shadow Gallery, where she could draw small comfort from the posessions of the man she had loved.

She must have watched the entire DVD collection and gone over every peice of art without actually taking in a single detal before a song chosen at random from the jukebox peirced her grief.

_We were drawn from the weeds  
We were brave like soldiers  
Falling down under the pale moonlight  
You were holding to me  
Like a someone broken  
And I couldn't tell you but I'm telling you now_

_Just let me hold you while you're falling apart  
Just let me hold you and we'll both fall down_

_Fall on me  
Tell me everything you want me to be  
Forever with you, forever in me  
Ever the same_

_We would stand in the wind  
We were free like water  
Flowing down  
Under the warmth of the sun  
Now it's cold and we're scared  
And we've both been shaken  
Hey, look at us  
Man, this doesn't need to be the end_

_Just let me hold you while you're falling apart  
Just let me hold you and we'll both fall down_

_Fall on me tell me everything you want me to be  
Forever with you  
Forever in me  
Ever the same  
Call on me  
I'll be there for you and you'll be there for me  
Forever it's you  
Forever in me  
Ever the same_

_You may need me there  
To carry all your weight  
But you're no burden I assure  
You tide me over  
With a warmth I'll not forget  
But I can only give you love_

_Fall on me tell me everything you want me to be  
Forever with you  
Forever in me  
Ever the same  
Call on me  
I'll be there for you and you'll be there for me  
Forever it's you  
Forever in me  
Ever the same_

_Forever with you  
Forever in me  
Ever the same..._

_Ever... the same_

The words were so heartfelt, the music so soft and beautiful Evey only felt like crying harder when the first notes started.

Then she heard, really heard, the words. They cut through the protective barrier she'd thrown up against the world and went straight to her heart. The tears that flowed then were not the heavy sobs that had wracked her slender body, but silent, gentle tears that left damp tracks along each cheek. A last gift from V; she came to think of that song... a release from the greif.

Not that she could ever stop loving him.

Looking back now it all seemed so clear. The motives, the quest, the strength of character and the heart of gold of the man who had won her own heart. She still drempt, every single night. Sometimes V had accepted her offer and they had fled, to another town, or another country, or just a lovely, impossible dreamscape where nothing mattered but him. Sometimes there was the fear of the Fingermen, (an emotion becoming alien to her even in the realm of dreams) and the moment V had appeared to rescue her. Others times, he returned to her, granted his lfie by some wonderful miracle.

She wanted those ones to be real so much she always had a few tears to shed after awaking from them.

She had no idea how many days had passed before she thought to venture outside. She had not cast a thought to the world V had died to give birth to. Cautiously, she followed a tunnel now familiar up to the surface, protectively wrapping her arms over her front, clad in her velvet jacket.

The light was just fading from the sky. In a street just down from the alley Evey emerged from, she stood back to marvel at one of the sweetest sights any person might behold.

Chasing each other down the road, their laughter echoing off the brick walls, were a small group of children.

A boy of about nine tossed a small, bright yellow ball to a younger girl, and she went on to chase a taller blonde girl. After watching for a few minutes Evey realized they were playing some sort of tag with the ball. A small boy with a bright red mop of hair missed catching the ball, and it was avidly snatched up by a small tan dog dashing around the feet of the children. Tail wagging, it tore off down the street with the laughing mob in hot pursuit, obviously enjoying leading the bunch a merry dance. Evey stood watching as they dissapeared around a corner, and felt a warm glow spread across her. It was the closest she'd been to happiness since V's death.

There were things she needed in the Gallery, shopping that could not be put off. Evey was unsure of which day it was but set off to the nearest store to see if it happened to be open. Before she reached it, a second surprise awaited.

Several small but colourful stalls were standing along the side of the road, selling clothing, spices, meat, even one with fresh fruit and vegetables. Small groups of people stood around, chatting to one another or to the vendors behind the stalls. Everywhere Evey looked, there were smiles, jokes, laughter.

She couldn't remember ever hearing so much laughter.

She found the little street market was able to supply her with most of her basic needs and decided the rest could be put off for a few more days. One arm around the brown paper bag filled with her purchases, Evey turned back for home.

Home. When had the Shadow Gallery become home? It was more than a collection of rare and beautiful items to Evey, more than just the underground tunnels V had left to her. She'd rarely even though of her old apartment as 'home'.

As she turned into the alley, a sixth sense pulled her up. Lifting her head and raising herself to her full height, she glared into the dark, ready if necessary to defend herself.

"Little girls shouldn't be walking down dark alleys." Growled the rough voice from a boarded-up doorframe. Evey stooped calmly to place her bag on the ground, recognizing the type. Most likely, a Fingerman... a _former _Fingerman, that was. He took a step towards her, his eyes filled with hate. He looked in bad condition, with skin pale, his clothing torn, his hair an unruly mess. He had been driven out of his headquarters by a determinded mob and been forced to scavenge garbage for the past two days to aviod more like them - fierce bands of freedom fighters, armed with crude clubs, crowbars, and most dangerous of all... the knowledge that they were _right_. The days of Fingerman terrorizing the population were over. The roles had been reversed.

And now here was one of them, walking along calmly with a bag of groceries, as if she had ever right in the world to be where she was. The Fingerman tightened his grip on his batton and advanced on her. His days were limited, he knew... he had nothing to loose. "Filthy radical!" He spat, lunging at the girl.

Who neatly sidestepped him and threw a swift elbow at his ribcage as he passed. The blow spun him off-balane, but he was stronger than Evey had anticipated and recovered quickly, turning back upon her, futher enraged now she had dared to fight back. He rasied the batton and scowled fiercely at her.

It was only when he moved from beside the doorframe did Evey see the second figure. A pair of gleaming eyes blinked up at her from the shadows. For a second Evey stared, uncomprehending. Was there a second assailent crouched in the darkness to back up his partner?

She was not left questioning for very long. The Fingerman leapt at her and at the same time something dark and sleek leapt, much faster, at him.

This time her dodge was no so prompt and the Fingerman barreled into her, but his attention was no longer upon his intended victim. He was screaming and beating wildly with a fist at the shadowy figure attached to the arm holding the batton. Evey scrambled back away from the pair as an omnious growl filled her ears - the figure who had come to her defense was a dog. Scrambling back, she aimed a kick straight at the Fingerman's head. On his knees, grappling with the snarling canine, he never knew what hit him. He slumped down face first, and the dog released his hold on the man's arm.

For a moment there was silence as Evey studied the animal. He was of undiscernible breeding, probably several different types. If he'd stood on his back legs he would have easily reached her shoulders, and possessed a stocky build that spoke volumes of his strength. The Fingerman's blood had slightly stained the dark fur aorund his muzzle.

"You know, I didn't need your help." Evey remarked. The dog's response was to sit down and tilt his stocky head slightly to one side, still watching her.

Perhaps it was watching the childen and the fun they'd been having with their little terrier, but Evey felt oddly drawn to this dog. To be sure, this was obviously no children's pet, but there was something compelling in his expression. He was looking up at Evey with what seemed to be a thoughtful expression, looking as if he really saw who she was through his golden eyes.

It was the eyes that told her this wasn't some random stray. Those eyes shone with intelligence and intent, and his quiet manner was unsual, too. He looked healthy enough, his ribs only just visible under his medium-length, jet black fur. There were none of the telltale wounds or scrapes of a street dog. Wherever he had come from, Evey felt an odd sort of kinship. There was no happiness in his eyes, and no signs of a wagging tail; yet Evey knew he would not harm her. Perhaps he had chosen her alley becuase he to, had sensed something of himself in her.

After moving several paces away from the unconscious Fignerman, she dropped into a crouch, holding her hand in front of her, but not beconing to him.

"Come here." She said softly.

He did so without a moment's hesitation, moving with sure steps. He ducked his head a little so Evey's fingers could brush over his ears. Gently, she stroked his forehead and up between his ears, running her fingers through his thick scruff.

He followed like a second shadow at her heels, half a pace behind her, down to the Gallery. He accepted the scraps of meat and vegetables she gave him after cooking herself dinner and he took them into a corner to eat politely at the feet of a suit of armor - a slightly more oranate and less practical version than the one V has used for his swordfighting.

He was company she had sorely been missing, and as he was all she had to talk to she realized she needed to come up with a name. _Shadow_ seemed far too generic for such an individual dog, though it suited him, and so Evey dubbed the dog Shade, and Shade he remained.

VEVEVEVEV

And Shade was only the start.

Evey settled comfortably into her odd life underground. Using one of the out-of-place computers V had tucked away in yet another room furnished with bookshelves and more books than the average library, she accessed the bank accounts he had used to fund his plans. She brought only what she needed, food and necessities... save for the things she brought for Shade. To her astonishment one of the small corner shops near the Gallery converted an asile devoted to pets. As things returned to a semblance of normality, old lines of supply and demand re-emerged. It felt as if before Evey could blink there were children running around with puppies at their heels, elder couples bringing cats to live with them in their apartments.. .even, one day as Evey was entering the shop, a young woman holding a goldfish in a clear plastic bag and a tin of fish food.

She stopped by the shop not only for simple things like bread and milk (not newspapers, though) but mainly, for Shade. She brought him large bags of dog food, supplimenting the diet with scraps from her own cooking. He was quiet in nature, and accepted anything she placed on the dish she had dubbed at his, which now sat at the foot of the suit of armor. He followed her from room to room when she moved about the Gallery, curling contendly beside her bed as she read or sitting with his head on the armrest as she watched TV. He watched over her, a silent gaurdian, and the closest thing she had to a friend.

Sh brought him a dark red leather collar he patiently allowed to fasten around his neck, although she never got anything engraved on the small golden tag than hung from it. He wasn't the type of dog she could imagine playing with toys, so she never brought him those, but he enjoyed bones and chews and she would bring these home with each bag of food.

On this day as she entered the store to buy his next supply of biscuits, something different caught her eye. Sitting on a wooden perch on the counter was a small, colourful little bird, with bright inquisitive eyes. Despite herself, she stopped and glanced curiously at it. She had a faint memory of a birdbath in the garden when she was a little girl, and the bird's quick movements were familiar. Comforting, even.

"You like?" The plump, dark-eyed woman behind the counter recognized Evey from previous visits, and beamed merrily at the younger woman. "He come this morning. Is good whistling, very friendly." Evey nodded absently as she continued to study the bird. He hopped along his perch and stretched out his neck curiosly to her with an enquiring little whistle. Warmed by his friendly show, she automatically raised a hand to him, and without hesitation he hopped onto her finger and nibbled at her palm a sociable manner.

There was an old ornate birdcage against the back wall of the Shadow Gallery, all fancy curled brasswork, obviously designed for decoration. Evey had never really seen the sense in a cage never intended for its original use, and something within her suddenly warmed at the thought of his little bird sitting in V's dusty old birdcage.

Shade had of course escorted her to the corner shop and taken his usual place by the door as she went inside. As Evey emerged, dog food over her arm, a paper bag of chews in her hand, and a cardboard box under the other arm, she could have sworn her dog gave her a disbelieving look.

He most certainly gave her a disbelieving look when, back at home in the Gallery, she opened the box and out hopped the bird, giving a short aproving whistle as Evey placed him inside the fancy antique birdcage. Evey shrugged helplessly at Shade. "Don't look at me like that."

Setting his bag of food on the ground, she opened the bag and drew out one of his rawhide chews, followed by a second bag of seed. She offered him the chew and he continued to stare at her, making no move to take it from her hand. She almost burst out laughing at the look on his face, and left the chew at his feet for when he decided to recover from his perplexity. She measured out some of the seed for her newest pet into one of the holders in the cage. When she turned, Shade was still sitting motionless, his golden eyes on her, leaving the treat untouched. Before she knew it Evey atually did burst out laughing. Sinking to the ground, englufed in giggles, she slung an arm around Shade's shoulders and clung helplessly to her dog. "I know... can you just imagine V's face if he could see this!"

As soon as she said it her laughter died away, and she sat for a moment, unconsciously wrapping her fingers in Shade's thick scruff. He quickly turned his head and licked her neck.

She couldn't remember laughing since his death.

It would not, however, be the last time. Sharing her life with two independant animals with their own ideas and thoughts prooved rather entertaining. The bird, whom she named William (Will, for short) could master any whistle he heard on the radio or TV, and delighted in immitating Evey's whistle for Shade. The dog behaved with such refined dignity around Will, Evey couldn't help but laugh at them together. Will was allowed free flight of the main room of the Gallery when Evey was present, and his favourite perch was the suit of armor Shade ate beside. Will would slyly start creeping down the bodice, then onto one leg, inching his way down towards Shade's dish. Shade would growl half-heartedly, raising his head from his meal to bare his teeth at the innocent-looking bird, but Evey knew Shade wouldn't really dream of hurting him. She thought he secretly enjoyed his feathered roommates' antics, and she had noticed he always left a few biscuits on the dish that Will would flutter down and snatch up victoriously, returning the shoulder of the suit to hold his prize with one foot and nibble away at it.

She just couldn't resist adding a forth member to the family when she saw her in the corner shop. Named Charlie, for the silent flim star Charlie Chaplin, the busy little guinea pig was actually a girl. She lived in the bottom of Will's spacious cage, squeaking madly whenever she heard Evey or Shade's footsteps, in hopes of a treat. Will adored his cagemate and spent hours sitting beside the guinea pig, grooming her fur and immitating her squealing noises. She had an appitite that rivaled Shade's, chomping her way through sticks of celery and carrots Evey picked from V's garden-room. When Evey let her out to scurry about the stone floors, Shade sat firmly at the feet of his suit of armour, gaurding his food dish, determined he would not share his meals with a second uninvited guest. Despite her activity the guinea pig was very affectionate, and Evey spent many an evening curled up in front of the TV, Charlie nestled on her lap, Will on her shoulder, and Shade sitting beside them with a long-suffering look of weary patience.

Evey took the lift to the roof one night with Shade, inhaling deeply as they stepped out into the darkness. Shade jumped up and rested his paws on the ledge, looking out over the London rooftops. Evey followed him, leaning beside him and ruffling the fur along his neck. "Gets brighter every night, hmm?" She told the dog softly, referring to the steadily growing amout of streetlamps which ever replaced the old camers and loudspeakers. She shivered and drew her jacket closer around her. She should have grabbed her coat. It was close to midnight and the cold had deepened now, chilling her bare fingers and the tips of her ears and nose. Suddenly frowning, Evey leaned down to squint at the little street that her alley emerged into, her attention caught by a door opposite her building. Was that...?

"Shade... look." She wrapped her fingers around his collar, hope rising within her. "Look, on that doorknob... it's a wreathe. A wreathe of holly. It must be Christmas soon... I don't beleive it."

Shade looked up at her, and licked her chin. Evey laughed and flung her arm around the dog, hugging him closely. With that one simple little Christmas decoration, the world suddenly didn't seem quite so dark anymore.

She was startled when Shade suddenly stiffened, lifted his muzzle, and let out a single deep bark that revebrated all through the still air and down through her very soul. She'd never hear him bark before. He was staring with even more intentness than usual down at the street, his ears raised. Evey frowned again as a figure suddenly lurched into view further down the street. Almost staggering, he hauled himself along step by step, cloaked in black, his head drooping almost to his chest. Evey leaned out over the edge of the roof, her knckles turning white as they gripped the rough brickwork. The man reached out to steady himself against the door with the wreathe, pulling back when his hand brushed over the slightly sharp edges of the leaves. He unsteadily crossed the empty street and headed into the alley as if he knew where he was going.

Evey knew. Even before she caught the glint of moonlight against the white mask, she knew.

In an instant she turned and bolted for the stairs, knowing she would be unable to stand the slowness of the lift, Shade racing beside her.


	10. The Alpha's Return

V knew this wall. He knew the pattern on the crumbling brickwork, he knew the way shadows played across the ground.

He stopped, breathing raggedly, feeling the determination that had pushed him onward through the streets he no longer knew start to ebb away.

What if she wasn't here? What if, after believing him dead, she had left behind everything in her old life, everything connected to him, to take her place in this new world? She could very well be one of the people responsible for the changes he had faintly noticed as he made his way back to the only home he could remember.

He made it to the hidden doorway, the entrance to the Gallery. For the life of him, he didn't feel he had any strength left to continue. He slummped onto the ground, aware that there was blood pooling unerneath him and that pain flickered in his chest every time in inhaled. That must be why the alley was growing all hazy and distant. He was loosing too much blood. He needed to sleep...

Very distantly, he heard something sharp and deep that sounded like the bark of a dog. Which seemed strange. Out of place.

A moment later, something large and dark loomed over him. It was a dog. It remained beside his head only for a second, swiftly drawing back out of V's line of sight. He felt something soft and warm pressing against his right arm and the vibration of footsteps through the ground. A second later, a very, very familiar face was staring down into his, her eyes filling with overwhelming tears. "V... oh, V, hold on..."

V smiled faintly behind his mask, wishing he was able to reach out to her. Comfort her. "Dear Evey..." He sighed, softly as a whisper, and felt his eyes close.

VEVEVEVEVEV

Evey felt closer to panic than she'd ever been. "V, wake up!" She gripped his shoulders urgently. She couldn't believe it was him. She couldn't believe she had just heard him say her name and heard the smile in his beautiful voice.

Another deep bark suddenly yanked her into reality and she looked up into Shade's golden eyes. The dog whined anxiously, his whole body tense, obviously as distressed as Evey herself. "All right, all right..." She said it more to calm herself than him. "We need to get him inside, Shade. He's bleeding, we have to stop it... how am I going to move him?"

In the end Evey did the only thing she could; siezing V under the arms and dragging him with as much gentleness as she could possibly muster back to the Shadow Gallery. He was heavy, but she refused to stop. Shade circled them the entire time, back in his role as the gaurdian, and Evey couldn't remember a time before his comforting presence. Together the three moved down the dark tunnels towards V's home, where Will and Charlie pressed against the bars of the ornate old birdcage, watching the surprising scene pass by. Will uttered a little whistle he used to get Evey's attention, but this time it went unnoticed.

The final effort was actually getting him onto his bed. It felt liek years as she wrestle his well-built form onto the mattress. Only after he was safely lying on top of the covers, Shade's head and one forepaw restling anxiously on the edge of the bed, did Evey really notice just how much blood V had left behind. There was a sleek trail of it leading into the bedroom and her hands were bright crimson with it. Instantly she raced for the bathroom and the first aid kit. Shade remained sitting like a stone at the side of the bed, although his ears tracked Evey's movements as she raced out and then back into the room.

Evey couldn't hesitate. With only the slightest shaking of her hand she reached out and pulled away the unbuttoned coat he was wearing.

Underneath was a pale green hospital gown. Relief washed through her as she opened the front of it and saw the professionally tied bandages around his torso. Someone had treated him. He'd gotten medical aid. Thank God.

For just a moment, she took in the scars. They traced over every part of his body that remained unbandaged, thick, rough skin that resembled that of his hands.

Then she remembered he was still bleeding, that professional care or not he still might be in danger. The lowest of the bandages was clear, but the two higher ones, one around his chest and the other securing a large gauze pad over his right shoulder, were stained with his blood. Her hands steady now V was depending on her, she cut away the old bandages and re-applied the gauze under each one, applying as much pressure as she dared.

She was unaware of time passing as she sat with him, Shade keeping virgil beside the bed, never once lying down. Emotions and questions kept running wildly through her mind. How on earth was he alive in the first place? She was filled with so much relief at seeing him again silent tears traced down her cheeks. How had he escaped the train? Who had treated him and applied the bandages? Had they realized who he was? Why had they let him leave if he was still critical? Hope flared as she watched the bleeding subside, and finally she wrapped fresh bandages around him. He groaned very softly when she gently moved him to slide the bandage under him, and sudden doubt flickered up. What was he going to say when he awoke? Obsesivly private man that he was, he might well be filled with anger she had stripped away his clothes - or at least the upper ones - in order to help him. She could see the scars running along his body more clearly after she'd cleaned the blood away as best she could. They were unevenly textured and coloured, but to Evey, seemed undoubtably human. He was more than an idea, after all.

The tears suddenly flowed anew as she looked at him lying there, bandaged and vulnerable. She'd only dreamed of having him here again, real and solid beside her. Exhastion caught up with her and mingled with the hope and worry, and before she knew it she lay down beside the masked man and very gently wrapped her arm around his middle, careful not to put pressure on any of his injuries. She was asleep within seconds.

Shade licked her nearest hand very gently, then the arm of the man who's scent proclaimed this underground den as his territory. The Alpha of the pack had finally arrived home, and Shade sat watcfully at the side of the bed, viligantly standind guard over his two humans.

**Notes: _Alpha _is the first letter of the Greek alphabet and in wolf packs is often used to indicate the leader.**

**I know, this is another short chapter and I promised longer ones, forgiveness! Its mainly going to bridge between the previous and next chapters, so bear with me. **

**Tackle-hugs to all the wonderful people who have reviewed during my absence, and all those who've followed from the start :) **


	11. Unsaid

**Notes for everyone: I thought I'd take a moment to state my case on spelling and grammar, which, for a supposed writer really is shocking, I know. However, due to the circumstances the best program I have to write my stuff in at the moment is windows wordpad - no spell check. Rest assured I will when finances allow be getting myself a copy of microsoft office/Word and returning to using that, but until then, please bear with the spelling. When I have the patience I will go back and clean it all up. Stick with me! **

**Oh, and for the record, I DO proof-read. I'm just hopeless at it. **

**Anyways, enough about me. Onward! **

Shade had finally fallen asleep, his dark head still resting on the edge of V's bed, as silent and unmoving as he'd been while still awake.

V's eyes opened and he immediately became aware of three things. Firstly, he was home. The familiar arched roof of the Shadow Gallery curved above his head, and he was lying on his back in his own bed. Secondly, he was not lying in his own bed alone... Evey was lying next to him, her short hair a set of soft spikes against the material covering his shoulder. Thirdly, and far most disturbingly, someone had opened his coat and the hospital gown he was still wearing underenath it.

V froze. It had to have been her. She had to have seen.

He bolted up and out of the bed before his thoughts could venture further. Evey sat up with a startled yelp, while Shade leapt to his paws with a startled growl, all three of them instantly awake. Evey stared for a moment at V, who despite his injuries, had made it to the other side of the room with incredible speed. He then reached out to lean unsteadily against the stone wall, seemnigly remembering the bullets that had bitten into his body.

"You're awake!" The moment she said it Evey knew she'd never stated anything quite so obvious in her life. V took a moment before he answered, his voice as rich and familiar as ever, so sweet a sound it threatened to bring tears to her eyes. "So it would seem."

There passed several seconds as V leaned upon the wall and Evey sat on his bed, before the rather worse for wear mask tilted in Shade's direction. "May I ask why there is a dog in the Gallery, Evey?" Under the circumstances it was the last quesion on his lips, but the only one he felt he could possibly phrase at that point in time.

"Oh-" Evey blinked, as if it too, were the last thing she'd expected to hear him say. "That's Shade... I suppose I sort of adopted him... or, the other way around."

Silence, broken only by V's heavy, laboured breathing.

She had re-bandaged him, he was sure of it. The strips of material no longer had the crisp and perfected professional feel to then. How much had she seen?

"V," Evey murmured at length, moving to the edge of the bed and swinging her feet down so they touched the floor. "I'm sorry I had to... I mean, you were bleeding. A lot. I had to make a descion."

Hadn't he heard _those_ words before.

"I wish you hadn't." He spoke softly, without any trace of anger, but with a definate tone of tension.

Before she realized it she had risen to her feet and stepped boldly towards him, a scowl on her face. "Oh, of course, you would have preferred I let you bleed to death, left you to die!" She advanced upon him with a forcefullness that surprised him, until she was a hair's bredth away, her eyes shining with firey light. "You'd have rather died than sacrifice your goddammed pride, and I would have lost you all over again!" With the last words every scrap of strength instantly disolved, and Evey crumbled both physically and mentally. Forgetting his own unsteadness, V reached out and caught her in his arms, bringing her in close without a second's thought, resting his chin upon the top of her head as he cradled her. Regret flashed through him. The last thing in the world he'd wanted was to ever cause Evey more pain.

She pulled back slowly, and he quickly released the hold on her shoulders, trying to ignore the way his heartbeat had sped up. For just those few sweet seconds she had leaned into his embrace, relied on him for support, placing her trust in his hands.

"Oh V, you're bleeding again." Her worried little voice suddenly snapped him back to his first problem and he felt the tension tighening his muscles. He followed her gaze downwards, to where the still-unbuttoned coat was slightly open to reveal a faint red stain starting to spread over the front of the gown. "If you want..." Now the hesitancy had returned to her voice, and she took a small step towards him. "I could help, I-" He couldn't exactly move backwards, seeing as the wall was behind him, but V immediately straightened up and shifted sideways away from her, cutting off her sentance. She froze in place, one hand lifted as if to reach for him.

"Evey, I think you'd better leave." He stated quietly, supporting himself against a bookshelf beside him. For a second Evey remained where she was and he desperately hoped this time she would not argue. He could feel his strength failing and he had to see to his bandages... without the added agony of having her see his skin.

Then, without a word, she turned from him and walked through the door, swinging it closed behind her.

VEVEVEVEVEV

Evey made it about four steps down the hallway before she crumpled a second time, her back against the cold stone, fighting her dissapointment. What couldn't he just let her help him? Putting her head in her hands, she prayed he wouldn't pass out from bloodloss.

The scars had kept him hidden all his life, underground, cloaked, masked. But to her they were just part of him, and she no longer bothered to fight the truth of the matter. She loved him, the parts and the whole. It was nothing short of a miracle he was alive and for his own stubbornes, right behind that door, he could he dying all over again.

V wasted no time in heading for his private bathroom, pausing only to ensure the door was locked after he entered. Thankfully he shed the overcoat he had been wearing, then quickly pulled away the gown, which too, was a little grimy by now. Wrinkling his nose - he had never felt more in need of a shower - V carefully surveyed the damage. He hadn't had much chance to do so after he awoke at the doctor's.

He turned the taps for the bath and let the tub fill as he re-dressed his wounds. They were healing well enough; likely it had been the swift motion of leaping out of bed that had pulled a few of the stitches loose. He knew he shouldn't get them wet, but he felt as if he'd gone a month without bathing and was not about to delay cleanliness any longer. He chose the bath over the shower simply felt his legs just wouldn't have the strength to hold him up. It was amazing what multiple gonshot wounds had done to his endurance, he thought ruefully. Never mind, he could re-build that in time.

Relaxing in the warm water, he allowed his eyes to close, relief washing over him. This was quickly followed by a wave of guilt over the manner in which he had treated Evey. After everything he had put her through... he sighed deeply and sat up briefly to turn the hot tap on again, raising the temperature of the water further. His harsh skin could withstand a surprising amout of heat.

The question was... where would they go from here?

He loved her. He no longer fought the notion as he once had, it was simply a part of life the way the rising sun or the snow in winter. But just how far could love push him? How could they possibly have anything resembling a normal relationship? He would never have a normal life. He would never take her to galleries or museums, he would never walk with her through a park. He could never expect her to choose to stay down here with him in the darkness of his Gallery, and that was assuming she even felt remotely the same way he did...

He closed his eyes, ignoring the slight sting from his injuries. None of those were the most prominant problem. The real problem was that he knew the second he bared himself to her, she would leave him. The thought of never seeing her again made his heart constrict and his throat close off. It filled him with more dispair than he could remember in his life.

So this was love.

_Think about this_, he ordered himself sternly, rubbing a damp hand over his eyes. _You came back here to her, on the verge of death, thinking of nothing but her. That one thought. _

That was it. The key to it all. If he hadn't wanted, on whatever level had pushed him up out of the dcotor's surgery and through the London streets, something further to happen with Evey he would not be here, right now.

The thought of what he would have to do made his heart quicken in an entirely different way than it did around Evey. He would have to do as soon as possible, as soon as he found the words to say what he must, and the courage to even start. He had to before either of them allowed things to go any further, like that oh-so-innocent night he brushed her hair for her...

He had to bear his flesh, his soul, to the woman he loved.

VEVEVEVEV

His bath ended soon after coming to such a thought and he dried his rough skin off quickly with a large bathtowel. Glncing around, he realized he had overlooked something. All of his clothes were in his bedroom, and he had not locked the bedroom door, only the bathroom. What if she had come back in and was sitting on his bed again? His mind quickly slid to entirly different situations that might involve both his bed, Evey, and a lack of clothnig, but he hurredly pushed the lewd fantasties out of his head. Descion or no descion, he was not yet ready to bear his naked body to her judgement, and he knew it. Reaching slowly, he grasped the handle and opened the heavy oak door the barest crack.

"Evey?" He spoke quietly enough that she only would have heard if she'd been in his room, focusing his hearing shaply for any shuffle or response. There was nothing. She had left him to his privacy. With a short sigh he emerged naked from the bathroom and swiftly strode the few steps to the door, locking that one too for good measure before turning towards his dresser. He stopped dead when he suddenly recalled the hurt on her face the second before he had turned to leave. What if she had really left him? Had she the strength to leave, withou even a goodbye? Of course she did. That was down to him. Panic clutched him and he turned back to the door, ready to call out her name.

He got the shock of his life when the dark shadow moved from the foot of the bed. He must have leapt about a foot straight up, his hand instantly reaching for an imaginary knife at his side.

He relaxed as a pair of golden eyes blinked up at him. It was the dog, a more welcome visitor to his room at the current time than anyone he could have envisioned in the same place. At the same time he realized if the dog was still here, so was Evey. He couldn't have said how he understood the concept, especially since the door was closed and the dog had effectively been trapped in his room, but somehow he knew that if Evey had left the Gallery that her dog would not be peacefully lying here at the foot of his bed.

How had he missed the dog? He wondered suddenly. His vision was as good in the dark as it was in daylight, and all his senses were heightened, fine-tuned by the virus forced long ago through his viens. He had paused very carefully to listen for Evey from inside the bathroom and he hadn't heard a thing. In turn that meant the dog had not moved at all when he called Evey's name, which struck him as odd. The dog was a strange one, indeed.

He turned to the dresser and hesitated, for the first tmie in years, over which item of clothing to choose. Somehow it had become signifcant. He plucked up a dark grey silk shirt and ran a finger lightly over the material in contemplation.

"What do you think?" He adressed the question to the canine sitting quietly several paces away. The dog tilted his head quizzicly and slightly raised his left ear, and V grinned suddenly to himself. He thought he could grow to like this animal. It was amazing how much expression could reflect on his canine face, almost as much as...

A mask.

V pursed his lips thoughtfully and crouched down. Not quickly, but surely, the dog came to him and sat right in front of him, head slightly lowered. V ran his fingers through the dark, thick fur of the animal's neck. "I dare say you'll win her affections easier than I will, old man." V sighed to his canine companion, and then straightened up to get dressed, suddenly intent upon finding Evey and having her accept his apology.

**I know I promised longer chapters, but this just seeemd like a good place to leave things for now. Hope everyone enjoys, and had a very happy Fifth! (We don't celebrate it here in Australia and it was kinda uneventful). **

**Review notes: **

**Zizzi: Thanks -hope you didn't end up stuck to your chair waiting for V to wake up! **

**Froody (Free): Always wonderful knowing people care enough about my little tale to alert :) I'll do my best to keep some regular updates, and thanks :)**

**LetsTwist: You're making me blush, all those compliments :P But please, enough of the caps. You'll make us all deaf ;) **

**Belita: Thanks! I am making an effort to keep chapters longer, but of course the downside is longer waits in beteen updates, catch 22! I'm glad you enjoyed the ending, too! **

**Shadowcat: I know, I know -cowers from the typo demon- **

**Chica: I think I DO need shouting at, yes! More on the way!**

**Whitedino: I enjoy the though of V the Alpha. Mmm. Alpha V... -licks lips- Ahem... Updates soon :) **

**Pink: Thanks for all the kind words and reviews, and for thinking of me during my absence :) I must admit I have a huge soft spot myself for happy endings! (Who could ever tell!)**

**Big thanks to ALL my reviewers! **


	12. Of the Alphas

Eric Finch relaxed into the sagging armchair which was almost as old as he was. There was a lot to be said for putting in a hard day's work and coming home to peacefully read the paper in the evenings, a routine he was content in settling in to.

After the Fifth, Finch had directed a number of different teams throughout London, not unlike the crew headed by Andrew Hunter in order to repair damage around the city. Things had recently started to pick up. Former fingerman were becoming more and more scarce and he had hand-chosen several dozen police officers who worked under him he knew he could trust. None of them matched up to Dominic, naturally, but they were a promising bunch with the right ideas about the future.

Dominic had moved into the political side of the battle. There were still some left who supported Sutler - or often worse, Creedy. These people needed dealing with, but unlike the methods used by the last government, Dominic was being more straightforward about things. He and Finch's team collected evidence against them and arrested them.

Finch finally felt like he was on the good guy's side - and that they were winning.

He did wonder though, about Evey. He knew where the Shadow Gallery was and that it was the most likely place to find her, but for a nagging uncertainty, he held back. When the time was right, perhaps... but not tonight. Tonight there was his armchair, his paper, and a night of sleep untroubled by guilt and stress.

VEVEVEVEVEV

V unlocked his bedroom door and emerged into the hallway, passing once he was there for a moment. He would detect no sound of Evey's soft footfalls from deeper within the gallery. During the time she had spent with him he had become accustomed to every one of her little sounds, from the way she cleared her throat to the sound of her slippered feet upon the stone floor. This time there was nothing. Actually... nothing he recognized. V frowned behind the new mask he'd put on. There was a faint scuffling sound echoing down the corridor from the Gallery. It wasn't Evey, he knew without any doubt. He glanced behind him. Exactly a step behind him, the dark-furred dog Evey had named Shade stood. His angular ears were alert, but the noises did not seem to be alarming him at all.

All V's senses were alert as he prowled silently towards the Gallery, Shade keeping behind him. He hadn't armed himself - he couldn't see Evey as a threat - but he was more than proficient in many forms of unarmed combat. Cool, calculated anger flowed through him at the thought of some uninvited stranger trespassing in his - well, in Evey's home. Reaching the end of the corridor, he swirled swiftly around the corner in order to surprise the intruder, ready to batter the unfortunate offender mercilessly into the ground.

There was a screech of surprise as the small, furry rodent leaped up at the sudden threatening movement outside her cage, and she bolted towards the furthered corner squealing warnings. Above her, her budgerigar cage-mate likewise exploded up off his perch, his wings flapping madly, whistling his alarm-call.

Of all the situations V had prepared himself for, finding a bird and a tailless rat as his opponent was so far form the list it completely stunned him. For the first time he could remember, he had absolutely nothing to say.

Shade wrinkled his muzzle as he looked up at the Alpha male. For some reason he had been defensive about the two small creatures his Alpha female had adopted. To ensure himself nothing had changed, Shade sniffed the cage, assuring himself all normal. He glanced back up at the Alpha male, still unsure of why he was just standing there, surprise written all over his body language. This mate his Alpha female had chosen certainly was a strange one.

finally V snapped out of it and looked down at the patient dog at his side. "I think Evey and I need to have a little chat..."

Shade's ears flicked at the name, taking it as a signal V wanted to find the Alpha female. Touching his nose to the floor, he tracked her most recent footsteps across the floor to the lift and paused by the door, gazing expectantly over his shoulder at V.

"If you say so." V followed the canine and pulled a nearby lever to summon the lift cart to their level. It made sense she would be on the roof.

VEVEVEVEVEV

"You understand that in my eyes, there was no choice?"

Her quiet voice came form behind him. He and Shade had stepped out of the lift into a cool, breezy night. Shade trotted to her immideately, ducking his muzzle to nuzzle at her hand in greeting. She absently stroked her head as he lay down beside her, and V noticed how smoothly the little greeting flowed. He didn't know exactly how long he had been away, but it was long enough for her and the dog to establish a solid relationship.

He bowed his head contritely. "Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future. " He said softly. Evey lifted her head at stared directly at him, a brief flash of anger flickering over her features. "Future. V, do you even know the meaning of the word?"

"In one sense, no. Evey, everything I lived for, everything I worked towards before I met you, was the Fifth. I planned every detail, but nothing in any of my plans accounted for this possibility."

"Then perhaps we're even. You imagined this would be my world, V. You were wrong. I thought you were dead, V, and with that thought everything else seemed so insignificant I didn't know what to do with myself. Do you have any idea... how much it means to me that you're standing here, right now? How much I don't ever want to go through loosing you again?"

Her simple, heartfelt words cut straight to his heart. For a very long minute he was unable to find any words to respond with, and in the end she saved him from trying. Stepping towards him, she placed her warm palm against the smooth colt metal of his cheek. "I love you, V. I'm ready to accept everything that comes with that."

He finally found his tongue, as his strongest urge at that moment was to pull of his mask and kiss her, properly this time. "You don't know what you're accepting, Evey, you-"

She cut him off, firmly placing a finger over the lips of the mask. "You were the one who took away my fear, V. You're the one who has to live with that now."

He felt an aching loss when she lowered her hand, he craved the tiny amount of contact so badly. Staring straight into the mask's dark eyes, she lingered a moment longer before turning and stepping into the lift.

V listened to the mechanism carry her back down to the Gallery, willing his heartbeat to slow down. He pictured her emerging into the dimly lit gallery, and knew she was right.

For her, he would face his own, final fear. He could no nothing less - if he could not find a place with Evey, he knew without a doubt he would never find a place anywhere.

He leaned against the wall, then slid slowly down the cold bricks until he was sitting. Shade had remained with him on the roof and took a step closer a his Alpha lowered himself down to his level. A sudden fierce joy washed over the man and he gripped the dog's head in his hands, the three sweetest words he'd ever heard in his life echoing in his head, filling him something that almost could have been peace. "Did you hear that? _She loves me _."

Shade growled contentedly and wagged his tail. Silly Alpha, he could have told him that.

**Alright guys, I know this is getting repetitive, but sorry for the wait! I hope everyone had wonderful Christmas, or whatever holiday you happen to celebrate - and Happy New Years! Here's to a year of many wonderful fanfics - happy reading! **

**Responses: **

**Enigma, I think you're a little bit psychic! You've hit the nail right on the head for one of the main reasons I introduced Shade (Even to an extend Charlie and William). Animals don't judge based on appearances. Nice catch :) **

**Only as a muse: I know, I've been awfully slack, haven't I? I did want to have this chapter up as a Christmas present, but like most of the presents I plan, here it is late! **

**Faith: Thanks, I appreciate the comment - V is more difficult for me to do as Evey, glad you're enjoying it! **

**Findahappyplace: Always delighted to be an inspiration :D **

**Genevievey: Aww, all you guys are making me BLUSH! I'll do my best not to keep you waiting too long on the next instalment, but don't go failing any exams on my account, or I'll withhold the next post! -laughs- **

**Free: I have such clever fans ;) You picked up another reason for bringing in Shade! And whee, another Aussie! Aussie Oi oi... err, whatever these fanatical sportspeople are yelling these days:P **

**LetsTwist: No dramas, and I hope all my stressful delaying didn't give you any stomach ulcers! **

**Belita: I wanted to keep things as realistic as possible, yep. I'm doing my best to keep V in character with his reactions, but I do plan on having him venture into some... unfamiliar territory, shall we say, very soon! **

**Zizzi: Oh, it's clear! More coming soon! **

**Bluecrow: Thanks for the google toolbar tip! -nuzzle- I hope my fic hasn't resulted in you getting into trouble at work, now! **


	13. Entirely Unpredicted

V remained upon the rooftop for some time. Part of him wanted to go back down and find Evey, hear her say those magic words once more, perhaps even find the strength to say them back. But what seemed like a small step (small only because he had managed the words once already, surely it could not be that difficult a second time) was what he knew, to be the first of many steps, steps that would become larger and larger and carry him further away from the shadows, where he was comfortable.

Long, long years had be been alone. He had slept, breathed, cooked, showered, plotted, brooded and murdered alone. For the first time in his life that he could recall that might be about to change.

It was a feeling that the fearless man might have been forced to admit... actually might scare him.

He had already come to a personal decision that he must let her see his skin, see all of him. Far better that her reaction came now, quickly, than later. Later after he had started to settle into the routine of their life together, after he had fallen even more deeply in love with her, so deeply were she to turn away his life would be over as finally as if she had killed him herself.

But the decision was no easier for V for having been decided upon. Unbearable tension and despair filled him as he imagined Evey's possible reactions. It didn't matter in his mind she had already glimpsed his charred flesh when she tended to his wounds. She had no idea what was really wrapped under the layers of clothing. When she saw his body... or his face...

It had taken him over fifteen years to look into a mirror again after Larkhill. Fifteen years of his life coming to terms with what he looked like, with what he was. A fleeting thought passed, wondering what he had been like before Larkhill. All the old frustration and anger at the ones who had done this to him rose up. Why had they taken his life! Why could he recall nothing?

He had once thought if he were ever successful, if he ever did carry out his vendetta against those who had wronged him, it would bring him peace.

It had been a foolish thought.

The facts of the matter were still as they had been. He had still been tortured and experimented on, he had still almost burned alive, destroyed the laboratory, and killed people in the name of revenge.

But perhaps the hope was not all gone. Maybe it was never the vendetta that would bring him peace. Peace could end up coming from an entirely unpredicted direction.

Emotionally drained and still physically weak from the gunshot wounds, V allowed his head to lean back against the brick ledge and sighed heavily. Shade was still waiting attentively beside his Alpha, lying down now, eyes closed but one ear trained upon V. Suddenly the dog's head lifted and the dark canine studied his Alpha carefully with senses far sharper than a human. V's breathing had deepened but was rough and uneven, and his chest heaved slightly as he inhaled. Shade sniffed at the man's sleeve and gloved hand, but received no response. Standing up, the canine sniffed at V's mask and pulled back a little at the wave of heat radiating form the man, knowing instinctively something was wrong. He nudged V's shoulder quite forcefully. Still nothing. Shade glanced anxiously at the entry point of the lift and wished the Alpha female would come back.

Something was quite clearly wrong with the Alpha male.

**I apologize for the shortness and the little cliffhanger - wasn't sure weather or not to incorporate this little snippet into the next chapter or not, and in the end decided to post it like this. I've also come up with something I'm quite pleased with plot-wise, which I hinted at here, and will certainly explore later in this story, or perhaps in the next one. Being the romantic sap I am, I'm wanting to finish this story on a happy note, and I've already started to think this one might be wrapping up soon, but with a sequel to follow:) Happy reading! **


	14. Questions and Storms

Evey was overflowing with frustration, hope, annoyance and anxiousness.

She'd thought he was dead.

She's grieved for him, she even taken the first steps towards moving on with her life. In some ways it would honestly have been _easier_ if he'd died. Not _better_, because she knew she'd never be able to forget him, she'd never love anyone the way she loved V. But suddenly she was filled with conflicting thoughts, problems she'd never given serious consideration to before now. As she passed the jukebox she pressed down on one of the buttons to fill the gallery with soft music. She checked on the old birdcage where her two small pets resided. Charlie was curled up in one corner fast asleep, but Will was awake and blinking his little bird-eyes at his human. Moving carefully and quietly, so not to disturb the napping guinea pig, Evey opened the cage door and extended a hand to Will. He jumped onto her offered finger at once and she carried him to the sofa she and V used to watch movies upon. As if sensing Evey was upset, Will showed none of his usual playful exploitative tendencies and instead snuggled up on Evey's shoulder, nibbling softly at her ear every now and again as if to remind her he was there. Evey released a sigh and drew her knees up to rest her chin upon them. "Will... I honestly don't know what to do."

What would happen if she and V did start a relationship? As much as she loved the Shadow Gallery, it just wasn't a place for... what? A couple? Any normal person? Not a place to raise children? Children. She had no idea what V even felt on that topic. Did he want children someday? Had he ever even thought about it? Could he ever be comfortable with the idea? After all, he couldn't even deal with the fact she'd seen his burnt skin. Would he ever be able to let another person? Would he ever be able to live anywhere but the Shadow Gallery? What if he felt so unable to face the world he never wanted to leave the place he had hidden in for year now - could she stay here with him?

Her head was starting to ache with the hurricane of thoughts, but there was one thing that overruled every one of them. What if V could never trust her enough to show her his skin? It was one thing to make the decision herself when he was bleeding to death right before her eyes, but Evey knew she would never force V into making the decision himself. He had to do that on his own.

If he couldn't, she knew they could never go further than where they were now.

Speaking of which... where was V now?

VEVEVEVEVEV

Shade was starting to grow anxious. The Alpha Male was still not moving and the perceptive canine could tell there was something strange about the way he was making that faint rasping noise as he breathed. The shadowy dog paced back and forth in front of V, a low growl building in his throat. As the minutes ticked by, overhead dark clouds had started to gather. Shade glanced around at the unprotected rooftop and the volume of his growl increased. He could feel the electricity in the air, crackling through his thick fur. His entire coat started to stand on end out of tension, and his ears flattened back against the line of his head. Although he was expecting it he still jumped when the first boom of thunder sounded.

Shade was approaching his forth year of life and had lived all of those years in London. His mother, a black Labrador, had been the pet of an elderly lady who lived with her adult daughter and infant grandson. It had been the daughter, taking pity on the Labrador who was largely confined to her mother's apartment, who started to take her to a nearby park to stretch her legs. Vets had become very low in number during Sutler's time and as such very few of the dogs kept as pets had been desexed. The daughter, enjoying the relative freedom that was so rare now days, was content to let the dog run free about the park as she supervised her young son. There was so little for a child to laugh about these days. It was good to see him playing, chuckling as he chased a butterfly which fluttered from one tiny flower to the next.

It was on one of these runs the Labrador met a large roaming male, commonly referred to as a street-dog. These had drastically decreased in number over the past few years. Prowling Fingerman didn't only pick young woman to beat up. They targeted anything that moved, and any street dog unfortunate enough to be discovered by a Fingerman usually ended up mercilessly beaten to death under the brutal lashes of a truncheon. It was a sport between the most unsavory of the bunch; they kept count and turned it into a competition the same way others kept track of the woman they had cornered...

In any case, this particular street dog was a tough and crafty individual who had survived on his cunning and occasionally brute strength. On one occasion several years back when V had been raiding a government supply truck, after dispatching one of the Fingerman guards he had noted the three missing fingers on the man's left hand, coupled with deep scars until half-way up the elbow. That had been the handiwork of Shade's father.

He was a powerfully built dog of several breeds, primarily featuring rottweiler and mastiff. He was as jet black as the female Lab save for minimal dark tan markings on his chest and the tips of his paws.

The daughter searched the park, tracing and re-tracing every scrap of the little patch of wilderness until almost an hour after curfew, her son clinging to his mother, half-asleep in her arms. She couldn't imagine her mother's face when she had to tell her that her beloved dog had gone missing. Finally she admitted defeat and headed for home, grateful at least she lived nearby and their way was unobstructed by roaming Fingermen. She sat up with her mother that night as the old lady sat with dignity in her armchair, tears rolling freely down her wrinkled cheeks.

The lab and her new mate roamed together through London for three months. It was on the evening of their forth month together that the lab's mate left on a night's hunting. She was heavily pregnant and stayed behind.

He never returned.

Unable to fend for herself and sorely in need of the protection her mate had provided, she returned to the only other place she'd ever had comfort and security. Thus is was one stormy evening the skinny, starving Lab arrived on a familiar doorstep, her contractions already starting.

The old lady had been suffering a nasty cough for the last few weeks. Her daughter had precious little money for medicine, let alone a doctor, and was growing more worried with ever passing day about her mother. She doubted she would survive until the end of the year.

It was the best therapy her daughter could have hoped for when Missy came home. Despite the pain of her labor, the Lab went straight to her frail owner's bedside. The daughter brought a cardboard box into the bedroom lined with old towels for her to give birth in. Two of the four pups were stillborn, but the old lady lived long enough to see the two healthy pups, a boy and a girl.

The apartment seemed much smaller and quieter after her mother died. Her son was too young to understand death and kept asking for Nana. He did love the puppies though, and as she watchful the three of them play together the daughter knew she would keep both pups.

She hadn't counted on the pup's father, though. While the female puppy was as sweet-tempered and sedate as her mother, the male pup had definitely inherited more of his father's nature. He was always gentle with the toddler, but he was never outgoing or friendly with others, like his mother and sister. He even looked more like his father, and had steadily grown into a heavier and stronger dog than his smaller sister. There was always something untamed about him, and before he was a year old he quietly left the little family to roam the streets as his father before him. Such was his life, defending himself against aggressive Fingermen and hunting or scavenging his meals. Right up until the night he had come into Evey's life, recognizing immediately the threat the former Fingerman posed. There hadn't been as many of them around recently, and more and more Shade had found himself able to travel unhindered by them, but he still knew a threatening situation when one presented itself. When the aggressor went for Evey, he had been reminded of another woman around her age who had treated him with kindness and understanding. He had sprung to defend her instinctively and in that one unthinking act he had found his family, his pack.

Within the space of a few seconds both V and Shade were soaked to the skin. With such a life behind him Shade had spent many days exposed to the elements, rain especially in this climate. But no matter how frequently they occurred he never grew used to thunderstorms. Growling warningly at the imposing crashes of thunder overhead, he curled up against V and fluffed out his fur against the cold rain to wait.

VEVEVEVEVEV

Evey had wanted to give V some time to himself on the roof, but by now she was starting to worry. She had watered all of the plants and vegetables growing in V's little underground garden, then replaced one of the burnt-out UV bulbs with a replacement she found in the room next door, which was filled with all sorts of odds and ends. Clearly a supply room of some sort. Will was sitting on her shoulder and chattered softly in a language comprehensible only to himself, but Evey was glad of the company. If she hadn't been so tense awaiting V's return, imagining in her head what he might say to her, she may have been tempted to explore the storeroom a little more. As it was she returned back to the main section of the gallery, standing for a moment in the middle of the room filled with indecision. Should she go up and find him? She wanted to give him space, but it had been well over two hours now. Suddenly she made up her mind. He had been shot repeatedly but a few days ago, and while it felt like much longer the injuries were still yet another cause of worry. Evey returned Will to his cage, paused only to pet Charlie briefly, then strode towards the lift.

As soon as she reached the rooftop urgent barking filled her ears. Shade had heard the lift rising and was signalling his Alpha Female to hurry. Cursing, she dashed towards the sound, instantly drenched as she stepped out into the driving rain.

Shade was half-shielding V from the downpour, and stopped barking as soon as Evey reached his side. She gestured to the dog and he immediately moved aside so Evey could closer examine V, but she'd known as soon as she'd seen them something was wrong with him. Clearly he was unconscious. When her attention shifted to V's wounds she noticed the rainwater where he sat was stained faintly crimson - one of his injuries was bleeding again. When she reached out for his shirt front she hesitated for a split second. Then she quickly undone the buttons. It was the lower of the two bullet wounds in his chest that had started to steadily seep blood. It wasn't as bad as the previous time, but bad enough.

She had to get him inside. It was no use trying to treat him out here in the rain. Turning him as gently as she could, she grasped him under the shoulders and hauled his heavy form to the lift. Shade stayed at V's side, relieved. At last the Alpha Female had come. She would know how to wake the Alpha Male.

Down in the Shadow Gallery Evey managed to get V into his bed, piling blankets around his lower half. Shade had shaken off the worst of the water on the rooftop before stepping into the lift, but Evey didn't even think to change her soaked clothes before tending to V. She stripped away the shirt and discarded it in a corner, quickly wrapped more blankets around him for warmth. He had started to stir a little and muttered something as she propped up his head with a rolled-up blanket. She wasn't sure if she wanted him to wake up so she'd know he was alright or remain unconscious until she'd finished tending to him to avoid any possible protests. Turning her mind back to his well being she left him under Shade's watchful gaze to grab another bandage and gauze pad. This was becoming somewhat routine.

She replaced the bloodied bandage with the fresh one and resolved to tell him when he was awake that he needed rest. There was only so many times her nerves could stand having him bleed to death in front of her.

With his injury tended to, she sat back beside him on his bed. This time she allowed her curiosity to get the better of her. She studied the scarred torso before her, taking in every detail.

There was a lot of variation. His skin was thicker in some places where the scar tissue had formed. There appeared to be a mix of third and second degree burns. His chest appeared to be fairly uniform with third-degree burns while his sides and arms switched between the two. Parts of his skin were pale, or faintly red, others coloured with a normal medium skin tone. Under the scars and the bandages, his muscles were clearly evident, sleek outlines proclaiming impressive strength. Seeing them, Evey got an insight into how he could handle so many enemies in one battle.

It was enough for that night. She wrapped more covers over him, adjusting his position on the bed so his head was resting on the pillow.

He stirred.

She couldn't have known for certain that his eyes had opened under the mask, but she knew that as she pulled away from him, separated from his bare flesh by a mere layer of blanket, that he was watching her. He moved his head in a tiny gesture that confirmed her thoughts. His voice was softer than she could ever imagine it being.

"Evey. It's all right."

And Evey knew that however long it took, and no matter how hard it would be, that it would be all right.

**Well all! I hope everyone is still enjoying this, for I am certainly havign a lot of fun writing it! **

**I've been giving my little fic here and the sequel I plan on starting after I'm done with this one some serious thought. I now have more a set direction in mind as opposed to letting the fic pretty much write itself ;) While I still stick firmly by my claim of a happy ending for VVE, don't expect the sequel to be awfully light reading... I have big things planned for our favourite couple (and their dog!) as well as London as a whole. I also now know what kind of lifestyle V and Evey will have and what they will be doing. So fasten your seatbelts, my wonderful readers, the ride only gets better from here! **


	15. Beginning of Trust

"Evey."

In the darkness the voice that awoke her was more compelling than ever. Deep and rich, she couldn't recall the time before she'd heard it.

She had fallen asleep somewhat uncomfortably curled up at the end of his bed, there was a warm spot against her arm that felt like a foot under the blanket. She had taken his boots off him when she'd found him bleeding on the roof several hours ago, and had not been at all surprised to find the socks he wore were black.

She realized she must have fallen asleep after tending to him. She heard the soft sound of the blankets moving and somewhere off to the left was the sound of Shade breathing. The air was tinged with the slightly unpleasant smell of wet dog.

"Evey, I don't think you're comfortable there." He said quietly, and she sat up in the darkness. A hand reached for her and she almost jumped when she felt rough, warm fingers slowly move down her arm to grip her own. She curled her fingers over his, marvelling at the warmth and the muscle power in his grip. Impulsively, overcome with a sudden relief he was here, beside her, and recovering, she brought his ungloved hand close to her and gently kissed the back of it. She could feel him stiffen, uncomfortable with the closeness, but she only smiled to herself.

"You'll be the death of me, you realize. I mean it this time, I want you to _rest_."

She felt the tension in him slowly start to drain away. Somehow having a conversation like this in the pitch blackness of his room was easier than looking into her face, in seeing what he had done to her in her every expression. Although in truth, he felt he might almost be afraid to see the love she felt for him. He knew that if he looked into her eyes, those beautiful eyes, he would see it there.

"I feel I may have put you through enough for now, Evey." He acquiesced. Her grip tightened. "You know, you can't keep pushing me away." She wasn't going to let him escape so easily this time. Keeping a firm hold of his hand, knowing how much courage it had taken for him to remove the glove and reach for her, she lay down on the free side of the bed, on one side so she would be facing him even though she couldn't even see the white of his mask. It was a few hours past midnight, some time before the first dawn rays would light the world above, and here underground, with his door closed and the Gallery outside unlit, darkness was absolute.

"Yes." He agreed, his tone resigned. "I know."

She started to feel the start of frustration at the few words, sensing how close she was to really getting him to open up. "V, have you thought about you and me?"

To her surprise he answered with a low chuckle. "Evey, barely anything else even glances through my mind." He replied honestly.

"And?" She wasn't going to let him off the hook. He was silent, considering his words carefully.

"I meant it. When I told you I fell in love with you, I had never meant anything more profoundly. But in truth I think I only admitted it, to you and myself, because I thought I was dying. This... is not easy for me, Evey."

She softened, and shifted her position very slightly to bring herself closer to him.

"I can wait, V."

He felt so much love for her at those simple words that he had to reach for her, his fingers brushing her cheek very lightly, then slowly moving to trace the line of her jaw. She let go of his hand, closing her eyes at allowing herself to feel the touch she had imagined for so long.

"You won't have to wait forever, Evey. I promise." His words filled her with hope and a little daring. "Will you do one thing to prove to me you mean that?"

"Yes."

"Take off your mask."

She could feel his hesitation and uncertainty crashing down, and she gave him a moment. She felt with hand withdraw, heard faint rustlings, then the sound of his breathing suddenly became clearer, more defined. There was a soft clunk as he placed the mask upon his bedside table. She would not have asked him if it had not have been completely dark, not wanting to pressure him into it too soon. But he had willingly taken off his glove and reached out to her, and that was far more than the physical gesture.

She extended her hand, moving slowly so he could sense where she was, and felt his warm breath. Her fingertips grazed a cheekbone with an uneven feel to the touch, with the roughness of stubble a little lower down. She heard him very suddenly draw in his breath. Cupping her hand against his cheek, she let him get used to the feel of her, and was pleased to feel the increase of pressure when he turned his head more fully into her touch. She knew her next move was asking a lot, and once again she moved in slowly, giving him time to adjust but not too much to think.

"Evey..." His voice was pleading, but she gave his cheek a gentle stroke to quiet him. "Trust me." She whispered, and gently pulled him closer to touch his lips with her own.

The emotion he'd felt when she kissed his mask exploded a thousandfold. He was sure his entire body was shaking yet he was intently aware of her soft lips, the pressure of her kiss, the love that flowed from it. For all that he was not meant to feel fear anymore, he was sure he'd never been more terrified in his life. Or any happier.

She pulled back first, reaching for his hand. He barely felt he had the strength to wrap his fingers around hers. Without realizing it he had uttered a little groan when she pulled back which brought a silent smile to her face. His body might have a mind of its own, but he was in no shape for anything more than that - physically, or mentally.

"Go back to sleep, V. We'll have time to talk. Just get better - consider that part of your promise."

**Author notes. **

**Ok, I know it's been months since I've updated and I offer all the usual apologies. In short my entire computer crashed, and I lost the original version of his chapter I'd written and the draft of the next. But, much as I've enjoyed writing this fic, more importantly I lost several of my own stories I'd been working on and the loss hit me quite hard, I've been trying to recover what I can, but it's taken this long to get back to this fic. **

**With that said, I have every intention to finish it - perhaps in the next chapter, I think - and to start work on its sequel. I'm doing a course through work now which takes up yet more of my time but rest assured, I'll get around to finishing Very Early Even, and I hope all my loyal readers will be happy with it :) **


	16. What we want

Very Early, Even.

When Evey opened her eyes, the room was light. Not the light of sunshine, as one would find in dawn, but the light of artificial light - the reading lamp on the other side of the bed was turned on. It took her a moment to place the warm pressure around her waist and when she did, Evey almost gave an exclamation of surprise. V was lying behind her with an arm around her - a bare arm. She was lying on her side, so it was all she could presently see of him, but she felt the steady thump of his heart against her back.

She felt her own heartrate increase - for there, sitting upon the bedside table, was V's mask. Which meant that he was lying, right beside her... without it.

The compulsion to roll over and see him properly was so strong she began to do so without running through the dozen or so reasons she shouldn't. Before she could make it the entire way the arm around her tightened, drawing closer and halting her with steel muscle. She felt herself tense with longing. Was he going to be difficult? _Now_?

"Evey." His voice, spoken so close to her ear, had never sounded so rich. She actually felt his breath against her skin and ruffle her short hair just slightly. The shiver went down to her toes. She knew his voice well enough to recognize there was a pleading note there. She looked down at his arm, running her fingers over the rough skin until she came to his hand. Much larger than her own, her slim fingers looked tiny as she threaded them through his. "V, neither of us can be afraid anymore." She wondered if he was really shaking slightly, or if it was her imagination. "Please trust me." She finished softly.

She had him. He felt his iron grip around her falter. She was lying in his arms and asking him to trust her. He did, but this step was well the largest he would ever take...

Slowly, so that he could argue to himself that each separate motion was one on its own, leading up to nothing larger, he let his fingers slide from hers. He lifted his arm slightly. He pulled it back, leaving her free. He drew back minutely, leaving a slight gap between them.

And in one quick, sure motion, she flipped over so she was lying on her opposite side, facing him. He fought not to close his eyes, feeling like a child who could hide from a monster by pulling the bedcovers up. Except there could be no hiding from this, and _he_ was the monster.

Evey examined his facial features with something close to desperation, filling her eyes with the sight of him for this, the very first time. His nose was on the small side, and straight. The scarring there and around his mouth weren't quite as obvious as the large, pink scar that took up much of his left cheek and ravaged the ear there. The left side of his mouth was just slightly uneven, a small scar raising the skin on his lower lip, but it didn't for a second distract Evey from their kiss the previous night and how much she wanted to do so again. He had a slight wash of stubble on his right cheek, and likewise hair such a dark brown it could almost have been back grew on the right side of his head but not the left.

But it was his eyes that held her captivated. They were _blue_. Somehow when he had the mask on, Evey had always pictured him dark-eyed. These blue eyes, so filled with anxiety as they watched for her reaction, made V seem like a completely different man. Wonderingly, she reached up to touch him. He flinched slightly but let her place her hand along his cheek. "It's really you." She breathed, feeling a moment of unreality strike her. It was all so unlikely - the fact that he had come back to her, the fact that he was here, now, the fact he had pulled away the biggest secret between them...

For a moment he was still under her touch, then - with one of the swift motions he used when fighting, or avoiding an enemy, barely able to be seen - he was pulling back. She tried to keep her hand on his face but he removed it, clutching the hand in his own so tightly it was almost uncomfortable. "Evey, I don't think I can." It came out barely a whisper, and under and around the pinkish scars his colour of his face was stark white. She found herself fascinated by the motion of his lips when he spoke. Evey tried to return the pressure in his grip, but her hand still felt tiny within his own. "_I_ think you can V." She stated quietly. When he tried to get up off the bed she followed him, their hands still locked together. "Please, please stop pulling away from me. All these times I keep thinking I'm about to loose you - I can't keep doing that. I _want_ you, V." She began earnestly, but by the time she got to the last sentence her tone was more forceful, the desire within the words obvious even to her own ears. He stood looking down at her - still dwarfing her petite figure as always, yet seeming smaller than before without the protection of his mask - his face torn with indecision. She moved closer to him, her body brushing his lightly, and felt the shudder go through him. "Please let me show you." She murmured as she reached her free hand around the back of his neck, went to pull her down towards her.

V was powerless to stop her. She didn't understand! Seeing her own face up close, although he had seen and memorized it so many times before this - somehow seeing him had made it as if he had never seen her before either. He felt like he might drown in her, in the beauty she had - not just the obvious beauty, but the deeper, more subtle draw she had, pulling him ever deeper into her soul. He couldn't say no to that pleading tone, but he had to try and make her see. She was coming closer, and though everything in his body was screaming to let her kiss him, he didn't want to let her if it meant it would only be harder for her to let him go. "Wait Evey!" He forced it out urgently when she was barely an inch from him, so close he couldn't make out any of her features properly. "You don't understand... how much better you deserve..." He was trying to find a stronger way to put it, to make her see that it was wrong of him to ask _her_, pure beauty, to stand beside _him_. But she was so _close_, and her hand so soft against his neck, her breath washing over his face as she exhaled, the scent of her, soft and spicy all at once, that concentration was leaving him. She leaned her head forward slightly so their foreheads touched, craving the contact between them while she argued her case. "Don't you think I deserve what I want, V?" She asked him gently, God help him, if she said her next line there was no way he could deny her again. His body already ached with the effort of holding her back, when what he truly wanted to do was hold her tightly and fall back to the bed with her and make love to her the entire day.

"And I told you, V, _you're the one I want_." There was no doubting - or fighting - with that sort of conviction. He knew he had lost, but in the defeat was the sweetest of prizes imaginable. Because Evey impatiently pulled him to her and touched her lips to his own, and by that stage nothing else in the world mattered.

* * *

**A/N - Well! It as been, as my last reviewer pointed out, four years. My muse for this story has obviously not been what it once was, but I dislike being cut off without a real ending as much as anyone, and so - here we go again. For those who are still reading, re-rearing and reviewing - thankyou, and I hope you enjoy! Continue to review, and I shall continue to write :)**


	17. You Were Wrong

V opened his eyes when he heard a voice. Somewhere along the line the sound of Evey's voice had become one which he could have picked from a crowd in a heartbeat. In this instance hers was the only human voice, with a background melody of chirpping and squeaking. Shaking his head and sighing, V sat up in bed and took stock of his wounds. The bullet wound in his lower chest that had been bleeding last night - last night? Two nights ago? What an odd sensation for the vigilante, being unaware of the passing time - had closed over, already well ont he road to recovery thanks to the virus-enchanced healing abilities that had strengthened his immune system, his muscle structure, and his reflexes. He probed carefully at the round wound, which was centred in a knot of particularly obvious scar tissue, until he was satisfied it would stand up to him getting back on his feet today. He lifted the mask from the bedside table and had it halfway tied before it struck him he perhaps ought to not wear it. A moment of indecision passed before he completed the visage as usual. Evey wouldn't expect an overnight transformation. He compensated by leaving his gloves off.

He found Evey in the main Gallery with a packet of bird seed - of all things - in her hands, with Shade lying by the entrance passage. His got up for a greeting when V entered and the motion caught Evey's eye. She turned towards with a warm smile. If there was any dissapointment in regards to seeing him masked as usual, it didn't show on her face. "Good morning." She set the seed down in order to reach for his hand, still pleasantly surprised by the rough, warm texture against her softer fingers. "So it _is_ morning, then?" Confirmed V, squeezing her hand gently in return. She chuckled. "It is very early, but we missed most of a day yesterday. No more rooftop roaming, yeah?" He inclined his head meekly. "As Midlady wishes." She laughed and let go of his hand to swat him teasingly. "_Right_. I made some pancakes, though I doubt they're as good as yours always are. You're feeling allright?" V noticed her gaze dip to his vest and felt a moment of uncomfortableness that she had seen what lay beneath. "Much better, thank you. I admit to being a pinch peckish, perhaps we ought to partake in a plate of said pancakes." She hid her laugh as she followed him to the kitchen, Shade's claws clicking lightly behind them. She suspected he was being so alliterate to cover his nerves, and after setting a plate in front of him she turned back discretely to take care of the dishes. She made no motion to turn until she heard the quiet clunk of ceramic, when she risked a very quick glance over one shoulder. His back was to her, so she could only see the back of his head, the wig still in place. But now she knew the colour of his hair, what remained of it, wasn't all that much lighter than the wig itself. Smiling, she turned back to her dishes. It was progress.

It surprised her when she felt the slightly tentative touch against her back. She was almost finished scrubbing the pan and she hadn't heard him rise, replace the mask or move to her side with his plate. Clearly, his injuries hadn't affected his typical stealth, she thought as she began to clean. "Thank you, my dear, that was a welcome meal indeed." Placing his now-clean plate to dry on the rack beside the rest, she turned around, pleased when he didn't pull back, and wrapped her arms around his waist. Lifting her chin to study the eternally familiar contours of the black and white mask, she relaxed at the slightly muffled sound of his breathing and the warmth of his arm curved around her side. "Let's watch a movie." She suggested, watching the mask dip in agreement. "No swords - I mean it about taking it easy. " She teased, warmed further by his responding laugh. She had an ulterior motive for suggesting the activity in any case. A few hours snuggled up on the couch beside V sounded just about like her idea of perfection.

"Can I ask about your... new friends?" As she rummaged for a video she glanced over her shoulder to see V's gaze inclined towards the old bird cage. She shrugged a little self-consciously. "It was too quiet down here. I felt... like I couldn't leave, and so instead of letting the shadows creep any closer, I filled it with life." He nodded, understanding, but from the set of his shoulders she could see disapproval. She laughed, something ridiculous striking her about the thought of V and his Shadow Gallery, taken over by her and her pets. It was equal parts comfort and amusement.

Over the next few days a pattern emerged. V tended to sleep late, the only indication that he was still in recovery. Evey cooked breakfast, though not everything turned out as well as the pancakes. During the morning they cleaned and organised the Gallery, Evey refusing to let V do anything even slightly strenous. Lunch was prepared together, and after a few days eaten together as well. Afternoons were spent in front of the television, and in the evening before a V-prepared dinner, Evey took Shade for a walk. She kept an eye on the world above, watching the emergence of the new government with a feeling of unreality. After the intensity building up to the Fifth and everything Evey had gone through, to have it not only over, but progressing without her, was a change of pace. Not unwelcome, it was just getting used to the new ptterns that she had yet to do.

Still, Evey wouldn't had traded her quiet days with V for anything. A foundation of trust was laid down and built upon each day, and with each step, feeling each touch, and yes, seeing each flash of ravaged skin so marked by the past, meant more to Evey than she could say. V's strength grew until the day came she found him swordfighting with his suit of armour, and watching him duck and wave around the frozen metal arms she knew he was healthy again. It was amazing how quickly he healed, Evey mused, if not surprising. She had seen, over the past year, just what V was capable of. He wouldn't ever have gotten this far without the physical and mental capabilities she now knew so well.

Nights were the hardest for Evey. She was torn between giving him his space, sensing that this was the biggest of steps for him to take, and well... begging him to remove every layer of clothing that stood between them. Though he went without gloves quite frequently now, and laid aside his mask for meals, she found his hesitation only fuelled her hunger. Though it made him nervous to have her direct gaze on him when he was unmasked, she grew adept at taking in much with a single glance. She memorized his face and the expressions that flickered across them. It took some practice, since the motion of his lips and cheeks was greatly reduced and he had no eyebrows to speak of. She caught glimpses of each expression in the short times she has access to them and pieced them together frame by frame.

She should have expected the day she woke up and found that both V and Shade were gone. V's late sleep-ins had become less and less late until he was getting up at the same time as she did. Today he had beaten her to the punch and though she wanted to feel worried, it was hard to imagine V _and_ Shade getting into trouble.

They returned in exceedingly high spirits, one carrying with fresh bread in a brown paper bag and the other a rawhide chew. V wore his usual mask and cape, but Evey wasn't surprised. Around ten percent or so of the people she saw on the streets wore V's typical getup in celebration and memory. Her practiced eye could easily tell the difference between a vinyl cape and plastic mask and the real thing, but she figured she was one of the few who could, and that made V safe enough outside.

"I have a surprise for you." Was V's greeting as he set the bread on the crowded but tidy kitchen counter and Shade trotted to Evey for a pat. V followed him and wound Evey into a secure hold in his arms. "Really? What is it?" There was still something childlike that Evey retained that V adored, a kid-on-Christmas excited light in her eyes. "Come with me and I'll show you."

With the vast resources he still had available, it shouldn't have come as a surprise that he had a car waiting. Somehow she had expected something a little more local. Still, as V let Shade jump into the backseat and held open the passenger side for her, she felt the same stirring of excitement. "Where are we going?" She somehow knew what he was going to say before he spoke. "If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise now, would it?" She had to laugh. V seemed to be a competent driver, and Shade enjoyed the trip, hanging his head out the half open window that washed a cool breeze over their small party. She tried a few more times to wheedle their location from him without success, then fell to studying the landscape. Huge areas had been ravaged, rioted, cordoned off, blackmarked as being outside quarentine zones. And yet, between them, there was life. Children kicked balls to one another in the street, neighbours leaned on fences to converse, and shop fronts were being repainted. When Evey caught sight of a name on a signpost, she frowned. "Tottenham?" She questioned, the sound of it stirring at a memory she couldn't quite grasp. "Yes - we're nearly there." Confirmed V, lifting a hand to check his mask and wig were in place. There were still other 'V's' in the streets they were driving through, though they weren't as frequent as in the heart of London. The houses were becoming larger and more widely spaced, with expansive grounds. Evey saw some people working in gardens. Shade opened a lazy eye to watch a man and a black and white dog move a dozen or so sheep into a small grassy paddock.

"V?" She was beginning to itch with impatience, and he smiled behind the mask. "Here we are." He gestured to the winding dirt driveway he turned the car down. "A few more moments of patience, my dear Evey. All will become clear presently." Evey's sharp eyes caught a faded wooden sign by the gate as they passed. "Hazel Hill Lodge. " she murmured softly. It wasn't hard to see why it had been named so. Behind the brick farmhouse was a low hill with a large shady tree - a Hazel, Evey assumed - growing upon it. The house was on the small side, with several dilapidated builingds surrounding it. Though Evey could tell it was uninhabited, it didn't resound with the loneliness that some old buildings did. There were wild patches of lavender dotted around and ivy crawling up the low walls bordering the overgrown gardens. It looked forgotten, it was true, but as if many happy days had passed within the grounds.

"Come inside, please." Invited V, extending a hand to help Evey from the viechile. Shade hopped out of his own volition and set off at an amble, nose to the ground to catch every scent. Bemused but willing, Evey accepted the hand and followed V to the paint-chipped front door. He had a key, of course, old fashioned wroght iron with a decorative curled design on the end. Curious but unable to form any of her questions into sentences, Evey followed V along the hallway into a wide, spacey kitchen and sitting room combined. Old pots with a light coating of dust hung from the cieling. Evey felt as if she'd stepped into an old film, as she took in the view from the wide windows all along the wall. She ran a hand over the mantel above the fireplace and froze halfway along. There was an old sepia-toned photo sitting there, long since forgotten. The face of the older woman wasn't familiar, but the much younger face was. "Valerie." Evey breathed, in a rush of understanding. "Valerie!" She quoted from memory, closing her eyes as the days in her cell flashed through her mind. 'My Grandmother owned a _farm in Tottenham_.' That's where we are? This is Valerie's farm?"

He was smiling. "It was." He confirmed. "I have one last thing to leave you, Evey. I'm giving this to you. You are not suited to the life of shadows, and you deserve a chance to live as things should have been."

Evey stared at him in shock, warmth at the gesture filling her heart. It took several attempts before she could properly voice what she was feeling. "V - of all the things you've given me, this one... it means so much to me. But I'll accept it with one condition." She stepped towards him, and seized both his hands in hers. "I'll live here only if you live with me. I meant everything I've said to you, V. If you feel like you have to stay in the shadows, that's where I'll stay with you. But I think you were wrong V, when you told me you had no tree waiting for you." She smiled at the hillside with its Hazel, standing watching over the house. "This is meant for both of us. I want to be here only if you want to be here with me, V."

V's hands shook for only a second before they stablized within hers. He released her with reluctance and moved with more haste to undo the ties on his mask. Evey watched it fall away, revealing the blue eyes that weren't yet as familiar as the black ones that usually covered them. She lifted her hands to his shoulders as his lips quirked, his version of a smile. "I do, Evey. That's what I want." He swept her up so he could reach her more easily, and kissed her. "I love you, Evey Hammond. Never forget it."

**A/N - And there you have it :)This was written during my annual watching of V for Vendetta, naturally - I thought it high time! I'll probably be taking a rest from V and Evey for a while now I have finished this fic, though one day I do want to write more about them. Til then - Happy Fifth, fellow Vendetta fans :D **


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